What We Bury
by Ridley C. James
Summary: A wrongful shooting takes a treacherous turn when a father's grief pushes him to seek vengeance on Steve McGarrett and the Five-0 Team.
1. Chapter 1

What We Bury

By: Ridley C. James

Beta: Tidia

A/N: I meant to have this ready in honor of Alex's and Scott's birthdays, but it took longer than I imagined so it's a little late. It's my first multi-chapter in this 'verse, although not a terribly long one. I plan to post each week and hopefully wrap up right before the season premiere. I'd love to hear what you think. For my SPN readers, I promise I have not abandoned my post. I have a story almost finished, but my muse is struggling, and I'm hoping this keeps her happy. I loosely borrowed this plot from an old Starsky and Hutch episode- alas there truly are no new ideas. It is set a year after season one and Steve has been exonerated, the team happily reunited though I have gone to great pains not to include some of the 'supposed' changes to the show I love, such as the ridiculous addition of yet another character to Five-O.

RCJ*RCJ

_"Grief is the price we pay for love." –Elizabeth II_

Steve McGarrett was not a patient man. He expected things to happen when he said for them to happen. Whether it was due in part to being a Lt. Commander in the Navy or leader of Hawaii's foremost taskforce on crime, which afforded him to be in charge of any manner of municipalities on the island at the drop of a hat, he wasn't sure, but Steve was used to people doing as he damn well asked.

He'd already burned through his small reserve of patience while waiting to be buzzed in at the gate. The possibility of simply gunning the gas and running through the blockade became more and more likely as the minutes ticked by. Now inside the mini fortress courtyard, staring at the intricate glass door while the unrelenting sun beat down on him, the last of his control was quickly slipping away. Lucky for Stan Edwards, it was Rachel who finally opened the door.

"Steven." There was no hint of surprise or modicum of welcome in her tone.

"Rachel." Steve noted that his partner's ex-wife looked tired, her dark eyes conveying how little rest she'd probably allowed herself over the last few weeks. It was why Steve dug deep and found it in himself not to snap when she leaned in the doorway, seemingly as reluctant to invite him into their home as her husband had been to admit Steve at the gate.

"May I come in?"

"I thought we discussed this." She brought a hand to the side of her neck, trailing her fingers down her red hair which hung loose over pale freckled shoulders. It was a telltale sign of anxiety, perhaps irritation, one of the few ticks Steve had catalogued in her mannerisms. Rachel was nothing if not composed and refined, keeping her emotions neatly squared away beneath a polished surface. He'd been amazed at how opposite she was to Danny when they'd first been introduced-like a gale force hurricane and a quiet snowstorm. Both could be devastating and dangerous if underestimated. Steve had come to appreciate that Rachel complimented his partner in ways that were lost on the casual observer.

"We did, Rachel." Steve forced himself to relax, to keep his voice calm. After all, they'd managed to become friends over the years despite the disastrous sweeping repercussions of the Wo Fat incident which had sealed her and Danny's fate to be nothing more than loving co-parents to Grace. He tried for a smile, well aware it might have appeared more pained grimace if Kono was correct about the fact she hadn't seen him do anything but scowl since the Freeman case. "It's Danny's weekend."

"_Daniel_ isn't here."

Steve tensed, tamping down on his first instinct to shout at her that he damn well knew that better than anyone- except for maybe Grace. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly because Danny needed him to be the levelheaded one for once, to corral the bull in the china shop before he destroyed everything. This sense of duty was why he hadn't drunk as much as he wanted to last night, why he dragged himself out of bed on a Saturday morning and tried to pull his shit together to face the real world instead of retreating to the solitude of the ocean. "But I am. _I'm_ here, Rachel. I want to pick up Grace."

"You know that isn't how it works." Rachel sighed, her eyes glistening. "No matter Danny's wishes, you're not her father."

Steve was well aware he was not Grace's father. Hell, he wasn't even her uncle, not like Matthew Williams had been, but family wasn't always defined by bloodlines and Danny's wishes may have not mattered to Rachel, but they sure as fuck mattered to Steve. He would have taken more offense at the cheap shot if Rachel's voice hadn't trembled, sounding as thin and brittle as fine crystal. Steve wasn't the only one in pain. "It worked last week, it worked on Monday. I imagine it will keep working as long as we all agree it does."

"You know things are not that simple, and we can't go on like this indefinitely."

"Things are only as complicated as you make them." Steve licked his lips, desperately trying to keep anger and frustration from his voice. He rubbed a hand over his face, wishing he'd found the energy to shave the three days growth of beard. If Rachel wanted to she could keep Grace away. For maybe the first time Steve truly appreciated the powerlessness and helplessness Danny experienced when it came to the fight for his daughter. "I'm not asking for infinity, only this weekend."

"I don't think this is good for Grace." Rachel steeled in the face of his rationality, switching tactics. It was a counter Steve had witnessed her use on Danny quite often when she felt cornered or accused. He'd come to realize that even the most good-intentioned parent could unwittingly use their child as a weapon. Rachel's tone softened to one he often heard her use with Grace. "You don't look well, Steve. Have you even slept?"

"Did Gracie say she didn't want to come with me?" Steve avoided the question about his state of welfare. He was so sick of being asked the ridiculous. Steve was not well. He had long since forgotten how a good night's sleep felt. He took another calming breath willing to prove that contrary to what Danny often accused, Steve could negotiate without an ensuing armed conflict. "When I talked to her last night she seemed set on me picking her up like usual. She was excited, counting on it, in fact. I don't want to let her down. Do you?"

"She's ten, Steven." One single tear slipped past Rachel's lashes. She quickly wiped it away with a huff of annoyance. "She doesn't understand."

"She's her father's daughter. Ten or not she knows her mind." Steve hoped the levity might help in the thawing process, but Rachel seemed immune to his ploy. He sighed, swallowing pride along with the lump that had seemed to have taken up permanent residence in the back of his throat. Steve shoved a hand in his pocket, wrapping his fingers around his cell phone and reminding himself he had a lifeline, an anchor to keep him strong. He replayed Danny's message in his head, using it to keep the crippling guilt at bay. "Don't make me beg, Rachel."

"I don't want you on your knees, Steven. I'm not trying to punish you so stop looking at me as if you're a five year old boy and I've stolen away with your puppy." Rachel narrowed her gaze at him, but angled her body away from the door. It was an invitation, albeit a put upon one, for Steve to slide by her and come in. "She's my daughter, too, damn it. I just want to protect her. Hasn't she had enough heartbreak?"

"Haven't we all?" Steve's tone was rough, but he reached out and squeezed Rachel's shoulder to take away some of the sting as he finally entered the house. He waited for her to close the door, watched as she pressed her back against it like a bolster. He was ready to catch her if her legs didn't hold. "The last thing I want to do is make this harder than it already is," he said, quietly.

"I know you're trying to help-to honor Daniel." Rachel's dark eyes raised and locked with Steve's gaze. "No matter your intention, I don't want her at that dreadful place all weekend. Do you understand me? It's no place for a child."

Steve wanted to point out that it was no place for anyone, especially Danny, but he knew that would not aid in his mission. "I have plans for a normal weekend. I promise."

Her mouth twitched and she gave a welcomed, breathy laugh. "We both know your version of normal can tend to be rather skewed, Commander McGarrett."

Steve's smile was more genuine this time, unplanned. "Now you sound like Danny."

"I'm willing to bet you haven't missed Daniel's daily rants and reprimands of what he referred to as your insanity handicap." Rachel pushed away from the door, rubbing her arms with her hands.

"You'd be wrong. I miss everything about him."Steve's honesty surprised him. His grin faltered. No one but the tight ass Governor Denning had dared to call him out on any of the crazy shit he'd pulled the last few weeks. Even Kono's disappointment had been carefully voiced in a completely caring way, which had earned her a dark glare and an undeserved dressing down that Steve had yet to apologize for despite Chin Ho's not so subtle suggestion to do so or face his wrath. Steve was certain he was due a couple of ass kickings from his team. The fact he was unscathed was a testimony to the type of people he was lucky enough to call his _ohana_. "I'd give just about anything for a good dressing down from Danny right about now."

Rachel raised a brow. "From what I hear he'd have legitimate cause to berate you."

"You've been talking to Kono or Kaye?"

"The girls and I have crossed paths a few times. Ironically, Oahu is not such a big island. They told me Governor Denning ordered you to take a leave of absence. They're very concerned about you, you know. Daniel wouldn't have wanted this; he wouldn't want you to blame yourself. He loved you and..."

"Denning is an ass and I'm fine." Steve glanced at his watch, unwilling to have this conversation. He'd already had similar ones with Mary and Catherine. "Is Grace about ready?"

"Stan went to help her finish packing the rest of her things." Rachel had stopped trying to warm herself, but left her arms wrapped around her body as she regarded Steve. "It seems he has little confidence in my resolve to tell you no. My husband has a ridiculous notion that Grace and I are both suffering from a terrible case of transference."

"I'm not trying to take Danny's place, Rachel." Steve was merely standing in, holding Danny's spot. He'd made a promise and he damn well meant to keep it. He could give a shit what Stan thought about any of this.

"That's good, because you can't." Rachel's voice was gentle, and Steve understood she wasn't trying to hurt him. Even if she had been hoping for a reaction, some well-deserved retribution, complete emotional numbness had set in for Steve weeks ago. Watching your best friend bleed out on a dirty sidewalk tended to make every other conceivable injury seem trivial. She cleared her throat, reclaiming his attention. "Things will have to change eventually, you understand. We'll have to go back to life as usual."

Steve ignored her warning, instead looking up the stairs that led to the bedrooms. There was no need in crossing any bridges he didn't have to. "You know she has everything she needs at my place."

"Everything but Daniel."

Steve was spared responding to the quiet observation by Grace's exuberant dissent of the stairs, her boisterous squeal as she rushed towards them.

"Uncle Steve!"

"Hey, Gracie!" He bent to catch her up his arms, knowing she'd go straight for the hug. She was her father's daughter, after all.

"I knew you'd come." She clutched a pink, stuffed cat in one hand, the other she wrapped tightly around Steve's neck. Her voice was low, breath warm as it brushed against his ear. "Stan said not this weekend, but I knew you would."

"I wouldn't break our date, Kiddo." Steve held on a moment longer, taking in the scent of strawberry shampoo and the unreserved way in which she fiercely clung to him. She was solid and tangible-so alive, and a reminder that not all was lost. He was surprised when his eyes grew hot with unshed tears, which he quickly blinked away before setting Grace down, holding her at arm's length. "Let me look at you. I think you've grown a couple of inches."

"You just saw me a few days ago, silly."

"Something's different." Steve frowned, tilting his head to study the little girl. He took in the faint trace of glittery blue eye shadow smudged over her dark eyes and pink lip gloss smeared slightly at the corner of her mouth.

"I'm trying a new look." Grace smiled, giving a slight curtsey as she held out the edges of a frilly pink skirt, dotted with sequins. It clashed with the green mermaid t-shirt she was wearing, but the scarf around her neck had a swirl of color that he imagined was meant to tie the two pieces together. It was not her typical outfit and Grace's dark hair hung loose down her back instead of in her trademark braids or pig tails.

"I see that." Steve cast a quick glance in Rachel's direction, but kept his smile in place. Rachel bit her lip, giving a quick shake of her head. Kids weren't equipped to handle their emotions like adults, repression still not yet in their arsenal of survival skills. Steve vividly remembered Mary cutting the hair from all of her Barbie Dolls when their mother died, spreading long blond strands from the front door to the kitchen table, and into her bedroom, like a gruesome bread crumb trail."It's very stylish, Gracie."

"I don't think Danno will like it one bit." Grace beamed, extremely proud of herself. "He says I can't wear make-up until I'm twenty. I bought a new bikini for the beach, too. Auntie Kono helped me pick it out. He'll be so mad."

"That does sound like something Danno would hate." Steve ran a hand over the little girl's hair before standing. "Now all you need is a couple of boys blowing up your cell phone."

"I can't wait to tell Danno what we've both been up to. Tommy told me you got fired for punching the governor of Hawaii!" Grace latched onto Steve's hand, just as Stan made his way down the stairs with her well-worn Hannah Montanna suitcase in tow.

"I didn't punch Governor Denning and I didn't get fired. We just had a little miscommunication and I'm taking an unplanned vacation." Steve ignored the snort from Stan, silently praying the man showed some sense for once and kept his freaking mouth shut. He didn't think Rachel would be so understanding if Steve beat the hell out of her husband in their fancy front foyer.

"Danno would say you're spinning it."

"Yeah, but we both know how uptight Danno is."

Grace nodded, her eyes shining. "Can we go see him now?"

"You bet." Steve chanced a glance to Rachel and found the glare he was expecting. "_After_ we go surfing with Kono, do some swimming, eat way too much shave ice, and watch a marathon session of Sponge Bob."

"Can we have pizza with pineapple too? You know how Danno goes crazy when we order that."

"Anything you want." Steve took the suitcase from Stan, offering only the slightest of nods in the man's general direction. The chill factor between them had dropped several degrees after Danny and Rachel's affair. Steve couldn't exactly blame the man for the whole guilty by association thing, but no matter which way Steve twisted the moral dilemma, Danny, in his eyes at least, would always come out in the right, the guy in the white hat, taking the high road in a last ditch effort to save his family.

"I want her home by five tomorrow, Steven."

"I thought I had her until Sunday." Steve was pushing his luck and knew it. The dark flash of smoldering anger in Rachel's eyes reminded him there was a valid reason for some of Danny's more unflattering nicknames for his ex.

"Then you misunderstood," she said, tersely.

"Of course I did. Five o'clock." Steve squeezed Grace's hand giving her a wink. "We don't want to get your mom riled at us."

"Danno calls that chumming the water."

"Grace." Rachel knelt in front of her daughter, who smiled innocently.

"Well, he does, Mommy."

Rachel framed Grace's face with her hands. "I trust you will behave for your uncle and listen to everything he says?"

"I'll keep Super SEAL in line." Grace swung their clasped hands, flashing Steve a smirk that was all Danny and he felt his chest clench.

"I'm sure your father would really appreciate that, Baby. He'd be so proud of you." Rachel cut her gaze to Steve before pulling her daughter into a crushing hug. "Be safe, sweetheart." He heard her whisper and felt a rush of appreciation for the trust Rachel was offering him. He wasn't sure he'd be so apt to return the favor if their situations were reversed.

"You ready, Kiddo?" When Rachel held on for a little longer, Steve decided he should get them out of there before the woman came to her senses.

"Let's go." Grace released her mother, waved to Stan and started for the door, practically pulling Steve along with her. "We're burning daylight."

"When did you get so bossy?" Steve gave a little chuckle, losing his grin when Grace drew up short at the bottom of the stairs. He realized his mistake instantly as his eyes landed on the sleek silver Chevrolet glistening under the sunlight. He mentally kicked himself for not driving his father's Marquis.

"Fuck, Gracie, I'm sorry." Steve found comfort in driving his partner's car, but understood all too well the painful reminder it could be. Kono demanded he not park in front of the Palace, even Chin balked at the idea of riding shotgun. To Grace, the Camaro represented her father, screamed that Danny should be the one picking her up, not his second rate, stand-in partner.

Grace looked up at him. "Danno says you're never supposed to say that word, Uncle Steve. He calls it the mother of all bad words."

"I know." Steve's gut twisted again. Not for the first time he questioned Danny's request that he take care of Grace. "I'm an idiot."

The little girl's smile reappeared, as bright and shining as the Hawaiian sun. "I'll be sure to tell him all about that when we get there."

Steve shook his head, the laugh that bubbled forth coming out more like a strangled sob. He blamed the damn lump in his throat. "What is it with you and this campaign to incur your father's wrath, Kiddo?"

The little girl's jaw took on a painfully familiar set. Her tone dropped, echoing her devout resolve. "I'm going to make Danno so crazy that he has no choice but to wake up."

It was in that moment, in that resonance of a little girl's solemn pledge to save her father that it became painfully clear to Steve why he was so completely desperate to see Grace. His vigilance wasn't spurned solely by an honor-bound duty to fulfill his partner's last request, nor was it a demonstration of his attachment to the little girl he'd come to love as if she were his own flesh and blood. Steve needed to be with Grace Williams because she was the only other person on the island who hadn't given up hope, didn't already have Danny dead and buried. Gracie, just like her crazy Uncle Steve, still believed wholeheartedly their Danno would come back to them.

"What do you think?" Grace's voice was only slightly less confident than before; reminiscent of the time she took it upon herself to paint a surprise seascape mural complete with pink mermaids riding seahorses on the wall of the guest room she sometimes used at Steve's house.

Steve knelt in front of her, giving her the same reassuring smile he'd managed back then. "I think it sounds like a great plan-the best I've ever heard."

"Then let's go see him."Grace's face beamed. She squeezed his hand, echoing words he'd once said to her. "What are we waiting for? Come on."

To be continued….


	2. Chapter 2

What We Bury

By: Ridley C. James

Beta: Tidia

A/N: Thanks so much to those who alerted and reviewed. Even the smallest comment is fuel to a writer sometimes and I don't think readers realize how much impact they can have. I have not had the chance to answer all of them, but I hope this extra long chapter will suffice as my sincere appreciation for your comments. For those concerned, I write neither prominent character death stories nor mary sue stories, and would most definitely had warned ahead of time if I had broken one of my cardinal rules. And for those worried Danny wouldn't be around but in a diminished capacity, this one is for you all.

RCJ

"_To spare oneself from grief at all cost can be achieved only at the price of total detachment, __which excludes the ability to ever experience happiness."_

_-Erich Fromm_

Three weeks earlier…

Danny watched his partner enter through the main door of their offices. Steve didn't glance his way but Danny made a huge effort to act busy, pretending he had not been staring at the clock for the last hour. The detective forced himself to give the other man time to settle at his desk where Steve made quick work of the tie he'd borrowed from Danny, stripping it off and tossing it over his computer. The suit jacket went next. Danny's impatience and worry won out when Steve dumped the file he'd carried in with him into the trash can before kicking said trash can across the room to slam into the farthest glass wall with a clatter.

"That's my cue, Big Guy." Danny grabbed the plain paper bag from his desk and maintained a controlled swagger to Steve's door. He considered knocking, but figured it would be awkward and obvious to do something he had never bothered with before. Still, he hesitated once in the doorway, suddenly unsure how to play the situation. It only took his best friend glancing up, the flash of raw emotion roiling in his dark eyes for Danny to realize he was being an idiot.

"I'm glad to see my favorite tie made it through the hearing in one piece." Danny crossed the room, ignoring a neatly stacked pile of papers on the edge of the desk where he took a seat on the corner facing his partner. It annoyed Steve's sense of order when Danny forewent chairs to perch on the furniture instead. Danny hoped to elicit an exasperated sigh or an eye roll, but got neither. "Did its magical properties hold true for you or did the McGarrett dark cloud of trouble prove too strong?"

"Keanu was exonerated of any wrongdoing." Steve leaned back in his chair, his knee bumping Danny's as he slumped against the soft leather. Danny could see the wear of exhaustion on his features, the shadows beneath his eyes told of the sleepless nights and too many ridiculously early morning swims to clear the SEAL's head. "The department was found not at fault. The operation was justified. Five-0 and HPD are in the clear."

"That's what we wanted, right? Governor Denning should be happy. What's with the 'I just missed the winning shot in the last three seconds of overtime in the state championship game' look? And why were you beating up on your poor defenseless trash receptacle?" Danny had never doubted the verdict, but had sweated out the week long hearing with the rest of his team. It was especially hard on Steve, who as officer in charge had shouldered more than his fair share of the heat from Internal Affairs. The press hadn't made it any easier, sinking their teeth into a meaty story airing all the gory details and splashing it in the papers and across television for days. Danny, Chin and Kono had all wanted to be in the courtroom , but the attorneys and IA only wanted the officer directly related to the shooting and of course the Commander of Five-0, who had headed the case. Sometimes being a lone benevolent dictator sucked ass.

"It feels like we lost, Danno." Steve rubbed at his eyes. "Hillary's husband and father were there for the final ruling. Her dad made a huge scene, had to be escorted out."

Danny took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Hillary Freeman had been in the proverbial wrong place at the wrong time. "No one knew that a tour group was in the area or that she and her husband would wander off. If Hillary hadn't stepped off the curb into the mouth of that alley we wouldn't be having this conversation. It was shitty luck and you know that. Keanu took the shot at the perp just as she moved into his line of fire. Bad thing about bullets-they don't have instant recall."

"I know all about civilian casualty." Steve gave Danny a fierce glare. They had gone rounds about this last night. "But like you're always telling me, Hawaii isn't exactly the streets of Afghanistan or Bagdad. It just seems so much more wrong here and I was in charge. Maybe if I …"

"Don't go there, Steven." Danny raised a hand in the air to cut off the gut-wrenching self flagellation. Steve might have been heading the offensive, but he wasn't even in the vicinity when the gunplay in question went down. They were on the opposite end of the alley, pinned downed by two of the goons they were chasing. "Shooting an innocent bystander is one of a cop's worst nightmares, but the only ones to blame are the slimy drug dealers responsible for the exchange taking place at the port. They're the real criminals here. They're the ones who took that man's wife, stole a father's daughter. Not Officer Keanu and most definitely not you."

Steve's mouth twitched. "You've been perfecting that speech all morning?"

"Are you kidding, I've had more important things to do than think about you, like all that paper work my partner has let slide while he's been in bureaucratic mode all week." If Steve had listened to his voice mail on the way to court he would have known Danny had perfected said speech during his morning shower and was merely paraphrasing the message he'd left Steve earlier.

"Hey, it's not easy being the face man for Five-O, Danno."

"Sorry, great leader, as one of your lowly patriots I've got little sympathy for your there." It wasn't true. Danny took each hit aimed at Steve in the media as a personal assault, especially when the ratings-hungry ass hats seemed to take perverse pleasure in bringing up ancient history, like Governor Jameson's death. Steve's unfortunate mug shot made the rounds and Danny had spent an inordinate amount of energy hiding newspapers and keeping all televisions in the house tuned to ESPN. In the car, satellite radio was his friend. "But my very sweet daughter is another story."

"Gracie's worried about me?" Steve frowned. "I was hoping Rachel would shield her from the worst of this shit."

"She did, but you know Tommy Talks-A-Lot at school…"

Steve growled. "I really think you should let me pay a visit to Tommy's dad."

"And have another media scandal on our hands? I don't think so, Babe."

"So tell me, what did the ever enlightening Tommy _Talks-Too Fucking Much_ have to say this time?" Steve folded his arms over his chest and Danny was glad to see an appearance of 'pissed off and protective face' instead of the kicked puppy look from only moments before.

Danny waved his free hand in the air. "The usual hype, but you know my baby girl- she came straight to her Danno for the facts."

Steve propped an elbow on his desk, letting his chin rest in his hand as he stared up at Danny. "And what exactly did our Danno tell her?"

"That her beloved Uncle Steve was assuredly an idiot and most definitely a magnet for trouble, but that he was in no way a mercenary planted here by the CIA to take out unsuspecting tourists and island officials." Just like with the Jameson fiasco, Danny had little trouble convincing his daughter of her favorite uncle's innocence.

Steve snorted. "Thanks for clearing that up, partner."

"You know I have your back, and so does Grace." Danny held up the brown paper bag in front of Steve, giving it a little shake. "She sent you a special present to make you feel better today."

Steve reached for it, but Danny was quicker, holding it out of his partner's reach. It earned him the exasperated sigh and annoyed eye roll he was trying for earlier. "Give it."

"Steven, should I be concerned that my daughter is sending you packages of which I have express orders not to 'peek' at under any circumstances?"

"Must you know every detail of my life, Daniel?"

"When it comes to my daughter, yes."

Steve snatched the bag, nearly sending Danny off the desk in their adolescent-like skirmish. He made a show of turning his chair so to take a private look inside. Danny feigned great exasperation but estimated the rare smile that spread across Steve's face was almost worth the small aggravation of doing the pinky-swear and special cross your heart hope to die act with Grace before she would actually turn over the bag. "Let me guess, it's some gross seaweed salad with pineapple garnish."

"Close." Steve pulled out a stack of DVD's, turning them so Danny could see the cover. "There is a pineapple and sea life."

"Sponge Bob?" Danny shook his head, recalling the last weekend he and Grace had hung out at Steve's. His daughter had taken over the television, her and Steve staking out the living room while Danny had been tricked into manning the kitchen to cook dinner. "Seriously? Now I completely understand why Grace obviously thought you'd be mortified if I knew what she sent you."

"It's the complete first and second seasons." Steve placed the series on his desk, no inkling of embarrassment, which should have been no surpise seeing as Danny had long since discovered his partner's ego allowed for no such thing as self consciousness or shame. In fact, he was practically giddy. "Gracie said I needed to catch up on some of the classic moments. You up for a marathon session on the big screen during lunch? We could get Kono to bring take-out. Chin would probably be game. You know how he likes to wax poetic about the corruptive forces of media on today's youth."

"You want me to watch Sponge Bob with you?" Danny made a show of looking mortified at the prospect, knowing good and well he would relish the opportunity to do something as inane as watching a cartoon while inhaling his favorite Thai dish after the emotional roller coaster week they had all had. It was also extremely hard to keep the goofy grin off his face as he realized his partner was actually seeking out comfort instead of retreating into his equivalent of the emotional Bat cave he'd been holed up in since Hillary Freeman's death, but Danny had his curmudgeon reputation to uphold. He brought his hands together, pressing them against his lips in mock consternation. "Steven, it's a program about a poorly dressed sponge that lives in a pineapple and who has a starfish for a best friend. What are you five?"

"He wears a dress shirt and tie to the beach, something you should easily relate to," Steve quirked a brow. "Your apartment makes his pineapple look like a plush pad, and _your_ best friend's a _SEAL_. You're really not in a position to judge, man."

"Funny." Danny folded his arms over his chest. "Did Grace help you come up with those hilarious comparisons or did you think it up all on your own? And what deranged person told you I was your best friend?"

"Come on, Danno. You'd rather be slopping down noodles over a pile of my late paperwork?"

Danny smirked. "You may be a goof, but you raise a valid point about the paperwork, not my shared wardrobe tastes with a sponge."

"I have the occasional good idea." Steve grinned at him. "Like last week when I…"

"Don't get cocky. Bragging doesn't become you, Steven." Danny stood, effectively cutting off his partner. He made his way around the desk. "You're still the guy who thought driving onto a ship was a brilliant plan."

"Two years ago," Steve sighed. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

Danny propped his hands on his hips. "Are you ever going to stop giving me a hard time about my ties?"

Steve shrugged. "Probably not."

"Then at least we always know where we stand with each other. That's the most important thing in a partnership." Danny glanced at his watch, surprised the morning had almost slipped away. "Look, I've got to run, but I suppose for you I could squeeze a lunch date into my busy schedule at around 12:30, but you'll have to pick it up because Kono and Chin are on the other side of the island following up on the Gorman case. I want my usual and I trust you have your wallet on you."

"I have my wallet, Danny." Steve frowned, sitting up straighter in his chair. "Where are you going?"

"Must you know every detail of my life, Steven?"

"Benevolent dictatorship, remember?"

Danny sighed. "In all the excitement of this past week, I'm not surprised you've forgotten my very important presentation which I took measures to clear with my over-controlling boss weeks ago."

"Gracie's class." Steve ran his hands through his hair. "Shit. The whole bring your _ohana _to school day."

"I'd ask you to come with as planned, but considering Tommy's little spiel on your recent press coverage, I think it might cause permanent scarring to some of the more squeamish kids in Grace's class if her Uncle Steve showed."

"Go." Steve waved him off. "You should have already been there an hour ago."

"I'm sure Entrepreneur Extraordinaire Step-Stan is all too willing to cover for me. Besides, Grace knew why I was going to be late." Danny pointed to the movies. "Hence her gift."

"Tell her I said thank you." Steve met his gaze. "That goes double for her Danno."

"You can express your gratitude to both of us this afternoon by treating us to dinner at The Hilton. It's my weekend and some surf and turf and hula should be just what the doctor ordered." Danny pointed to the trash can in the corner and the scattered file. "That is if you finish your very important paper work in time to come out and play with us."

Steve groaned. "Thanks for the reminder."

"Hey, what are partners for." Danny didn't give Steve time to answer, ignoring the gesture of body language he was sure the other man let fly once his back was turned. He had cleared the entrance and stairs, was almost to the sidewalk when he heard Steve call his name.

Danny stopped and turned around, already reaching into his back pocket. "I _knew_ you didn't have your wallet."

Steve jogged to close the gap between them. "I have my damn wallet, wise ass."

"Then what's with the hot pursuit, Ponch? I thought we agreed on no long goodbye kisses at the office."

Steve stopped in front of him, his face flushed by the mad dash from his office. He grinned. "You forgot this."

Danny looked at the blue and green striped tie Steve was dangling in front of him like a prize trophy. "This return couldn't have waited until I got back? I do know where you live, you know. I have easy access to you color-coded closet."

"It's your lucky tie. The one Grace got you for Father's Day." Steve grabbed his wrist and placed the tie in his hand. "You should wear it for her today."

Danny felt a rush of affection which he hoped like hell didn't show on his face. Steve surprised him sometimes, and not all those surprises were of the nature that had him praying for both their survival. "Two good ideas in one day, Steven? What will you think of next?"

Steve's grin widened. "Nothing as tame as a Sponge Bob marathon, I can guarantee you that, Danno."

"Don't do that. Don't ruin this moment for me with the annoying nickname and one of your lascivious looks."

"Lascivious?" Steve's eyebrows arched dramatically.

"Yes. Lascivious. It means lewd, lecherous. Try putting down Guns & Ammo and picking up a book sometime." Danny removed his current tie, stuffing it in his pocket. He wrapped the other around his neck, letting it hang loose until he could use his car mirror to fix it. "I'm trying to bask in your atypical behavior as a civilized thoughtful human being for a change."

"Just don't get too used to it." Steve reached up and tugged at one end of the dangling tie. "I'm sure I'll revert back to my true salacious nature soon enough."

"No doubt," Danny batted his hand away. "Lucky for you the masachist in me happens to actually like that guy."

"_Like_? I know you love me, Danno and I know I'm your best friend." Steve folded his arms over his chest, his 'I just scored the winning touch down with five seconds to go' look making an appearance. "Someday you'll bring yourself to say it out loud."

"That will happen on the same day I profess my undying adoration for all things Hawaiian-including pineapple on my pizza, sand in my shorts, 90 degree weather at Christmas and coconuts."

Steve laughed. "Stranger things have happened, Brah."

"Don't hold your breath, Super SEAL-trust me when I say 87 seconds won't cut it."

"But I can go for 123 seconds."

"Which is about how much time I have to get to Grace's school." Danny would have loved to stay and continue the typical banter, which had been painfully missing from their relationship over the last week, but if he hoped to salvage any part of the morning with Grace he had to go. He and Steve would have time to catch up on their quota of verbal sparring when he made it back. He pointed at Steve. "Don't forget my extra noodles and silverware. Not all of us are freakishly adept with chop sticks."

"Yes, dear." Steve smirked, turning to head back to the Palace.

Danny patted his pockets, feeling for his keys. When he pulled them out, his discarded tie came with them. If Danny hadn't dropped it, if he hadn't stopped to pick it up, the first bullet would have hit him dead center in the forehead. As it was, the slug shattered one of the first floor windows in the justice building instead of Danny's skull, lodging in sheet rock, not gray matter, where HPD's forensics would dig it out hours later.

The sound of breaking glass, not the whiz of a bullet overhead had Danny standing, hand resting on his weapon as he turned to seek out Steve and locate whatever trouble his partner had managed to find in the middle of the day on a busy sidewalk in front of the Palace of all places. The unexpected punch in his back, the subsequent thrust in his chest that stole his breath and dropped him to his knees was the first inclination that _he_ was the one in trouble, the one in the line of fire.

Tie and keys fell to the ground, gun momentarily forgotten as he brought both hands to the quickly growing swash of red across the front of his shirt. It was true what they said about time standing still when the unthinkable happened, because Danny felt everything around him slow to a crawl. Screams and shouts were distorted, dragging like when he and Matty would play their father's old Jazz albums on the wrong speed. He waited for the inevitable moment when his life would start to roll before his eyes like an old movie reel, but only one image floated through his mind.

"Grace," he managed his daughter's name, the taste of bitter copper tainting the sweet syllable on his tongue.

"Danny!"

The pain hit the second Steve reached him, hands grabbing Danny's arms. A fiery sensation that felt like a hot poker had been rammed between his shoulder blades consumed him as he registered the fact Steve had pulled him to his feet, was dragging him along at a brutal jog. Agony plowed past his body's first defense of shock and adrenaline eliciting a strangled cry that Danny had no power to stifle as they finally came to a jarring rest beside the shelter of the Camaro.

"Oh God, Danny. You're hit."

"No shit…" Danny managed.

Steve's hands were heavy like anchors as they lowered him to the pavement, propping him against the driver's door. His partner's fingers wrapped in Danny's shirt, keeping him from tipping over and grounded from the beckoning call of unconsciousness. "Hang on, man. Just stay with me."

"Steve…" Danny blinked, trying to grasp what exactly had happened, where the threat had come from and if said threat still existed. He fumbled for the gun at his side, his instinct to protect himself and more importantly his partner momentarily overriding the pain. Danny's fingers refused to cooperate, his body unwilling to listen to his mental commands as neurons and synapses fired elsewhere reacting to the unexpected trauma. There was an ominous ringing in his ears, but Danny caught bits and pieces of Steve yelling into his cell phone.

"Shots fired…Officer down…Hurry, damn it."

"Steve?" Danny squinted, sweat stinging his eyes as he tried to get a good look at his partner who had dropped his phone in lieu of his gun and had raised just enough to see over the roof of the Camaro.

"Easy, partner." Steve's one handed grip on his shirt tightened, holding him up, but also keeping him from moving to assist. "I'm here. Just take it easy."

"I'm shot…who the hell shot me?" It was a long list of prospects considering their stellar arrest record of prominent lowlife. Danny expected to be taken out in the line of duty someday, especially since partnering with Steve, just not in _this_ way, not on a beautiful sunny morning in front of his office while simply walking to his car. He thought of Hillary Freeman lying bloodied and broken on the dock, like a little girl's discarded ragdoll. Even in death, surprise had registered on her slack features-her red mouth forming an O as if to say 'this was so not what I was planning on today'.

"Danno. Don't talk…just take it easy." Steve was right in front of him now, his face as grim as Danny had seen it. "_Jesus._ You're a mess._"_

Through the black dots dancing before him, Danny blearily watched Steve strip out of his shirt. He would have laughed, made some kind of joke about McGarrett's obscene propensity to be bare chested in public at least once a week and not wanting said image to be his last if another wave of pain hadn't threatened to knock him out.

"Fuck! That hurts." Danny groaned as Steve pressed the shirt hard against the hole in his chest.

"I know. I'm sorry," Steve rested his forehead against Danny's, his voice lowering. "Just keep breathing, partner. Stay with me."

Danny squeezed his eyes shut, trying to do what Steve asked. "What the hell…happened?"

"Sniper fire…from across the street. Assault rifle- someone who knows what their doing." Steve raised his head, searching the streets around them. "Back up and ambulance is on the way."

Danny snorted. "So much for Hawaii not being the streets of Afghanistan. With you around it's lucky I didn't step on a freaking landmine or get hit by a tank."

"Stop talking," Steve ordered. "For once, just please stop talking."

Danny licked his lips, tasting more copper and realizing he was in trouble. This was not a shoulder shot. He was not wearing his vest. Talking wouldn't be a problem for much longer, but there were things he needed to say-had to say now, just in case.

Breathing was getting harder to do. Suffocating was an experience Danny had definitely not wanted to repeat after the whole Sarin episode last year. It was too much like drowning; the prospect scared him more than the pain currently rippling across his nerves like an aftershock of an earthquake. He latched onto Steve.

"Listen." Danny forced a painful inhale, hating that he couldn't control the tremble that shook his frame. His voice faultered. "You have to promise me…take care of Grace. Tell her Danno loves her-tell her all the time."

"Shut up, Danny." Steve's command didn't have its usual heat and his attempt at Big Bad Scary SEAL face failed miserably. "You're going to be fine. You're going to make it. You hear me!"

Danny rolled his eyes. He knew his partner believed everyone was supposed to listen to him, to heed to his every order just because he said so, but that had never worked on Danny. It sure as hell wasn't going to work now when he was more than likely bleeding out in front of the justice building. "You watch her…don't let that schmuck Stan raise my baby. You be there for her…if I can't."

"The ambulance is almost here. I can hear it." Steve pressed harder on the wound; his body moving closer to Danny's as if he could will him to stay by sheer force alone. "Chin and Kono will be here soon. You have to hold on for us. Please, just stay with me."

"Steven…"

"Damn it, Danny you know I'd do anything for Grace, for _you_, but I won't need to..."

"Good," Danny managed a nod, despite the added torture Steve's perseverance was causing. Grace was in good hands-the best, and hopefully he'd given Steve a new mission that would keep him from doing anything crazy or suicidal if the worst should happen. The two most important people in Danny's life were accounted for. "She'll keep you out of trouble, too."

"That's _your _job."

"Thanks…for the reminder." It was a job Danny hadn't wanted in the beginning, one he'd often bitched and groaned about over the years, but it was a post he hated abandoning almost as much as the one he'd leave vacant as Grace's father. Steve could step into that role to some degree in Grace's life, Chin, too, but Danny was terrified there would be no one to fill his shoes at Steve's side.

It wasn't that he thought himself unique or by any means irreplaceable, but rather Danny merely knew Steve too well. The man would never afford anyone the opportunity to get past the defenses Danny had so easily permeated, the barriers Danny had somehow managed to maneuver past to reveal the alter-ego Steven McGarrett possessed underneath his blow'em-down, shoot'em-up, rules be damned, superhero SEAL persona. Steve wouldn't take the risk again, not after this, and that tore Danny up inside more than any bullet could.

"Hey, what are partners for?" Steve's free hand curled around the back of Danny's neck, solid and warm against Danny's clammy skin. "That's your favorite line whenever you call me out on something. Right? Danny?"

Danny was finding it increasingly hard to keep his eyes open, but the alien crack of panic in Steve's voice had him fighting harder to meet and hold the other man's imploring gaze. The face staring at him so beseechingly was unfamiliar, this look was uncategorized in Danny's portfolio of McGarrett impressions. It was painful to see, but impossible to look away from, like a beautiful dead girl shot down in a dirty alley on a perfect day in paradise.

"You were right…you can stop holding your breath now, Super SEAL."

"What?" Steve lifted his head to search out the sirens Danny could now hear in the distance before looking to Danny once more. "What am I right about?"

There was a braking squeal of police cars as they surrounded the area. Back-up had finally arrived. Danny could finally stand down after this unplanned profession of undying adoration.

"About you being my best friend, you goof and about Hawaii. You were right about Hawaii." Danny coughed, feeling something give way inside him. The pain was almost gone now, fading quietly into the background like the cheer of the crowd when a hitter comes up to bat. Its absence should have brought euphoric relief, but instead left Danny feeling cold, hollow. He shivered, managing to suck in another breath.

"I'm crazy about this fucking island- the insanely hot Christmases, the freakin' sand everywhere, inappropriate use of pineapple and all. _I_, Daniel Williams could quite possibly be Hawaii's number one fan. I even like Spam."

Steve blinked. Danny could see the mental wheels turning, his partner's worry for him growing by leaps and bounds until he recalled their conversation from earlier, from when the most excitement they banked on was Thai take-out and a mindless hour of Sponge Bob nonsense. Steve gripped him tighter, his forehead returning to rest against Danny's. "Hawaii loves you, too, Danno."

"Good to know where we stand, partner." Danny chuckled, the effort robbing him of the last of his energy. He closed his eyes, accepting it was safe to let go now. Steve would understand that the last two years had not been a waste; that something good would live on even if he had to bury Danny. Even at the end, Danny wouldn't have changed anything, not marrying Rachel only to lose her, not having Grace, only to share her with Stan, and not chasing the ghost of one family to Hawaii, only to find another teeming with life. It had all been worth the risk. Love always was.

To be continued…


	3. Chapter 3

What We Bury

By: Ridley

Beta: Tidia

A/N: You all have humbled me so much by your generous reviews. Thank you-another long chapter as payment for your faithfulness. I am also throwing my beta under the bus. ;-) It was with her encouragement that I left this on an evil cliff hanger, but I hope it keeps the roller coaster feel that I wanted for this chapter. You are welcome to berate her with the review button, but to her credit she was secluded at the beach when I asked her to look at this so all left over mistakes are mine. Only one week to premiere time-as if anyone needed a reminder of that.

"Given the choice between grief and nothing; I'd choose grief."-

William Faulkner

"_I know you like to think that every bad thing that happens is your fault, Steven; but I want you to get it through your thick, military issue skull that this latest debacle had nothing to do with you or your Super Navy SEAL Ninja skills."_

"_There was no way you could have seen it coming. No time for you to sweep in, cape flying to shield the victim from harm's way. It's not your job to take every bullet, to save everybody and be the hero at the end of every freaking day. Sometimes bad shit happens to good people who deserve it the least. Sometimes it's just a person's time to go, and all any of us normal, everyday Joe's can do is accept that it's out of our control and go the fuck on with our own lives the best we know how." _

"_I know you hate to admit it, and sometimes, honestly it's even hard for me to believe it, but you happen to be human just like the rest of us, Babe. So, listen to your partner and let yourself off the hook this one time because no matter what happens at the end of the day, although I happen to believe it's all going to turn out just fine despite the McGarrett cloak of bad luck that follows you around like the dirt cloud hanging over that kid Pig Pen from Peanuts, you, you big goof, are not the one who pulled the damn trigger."_

Steve hit the button that would replay the voice mail Danny had left for him three weeks before, and pressed his cell phone closer to his ear. His partner's typical rant was meant to be an encouragement on the morning of the final hearing for the Freeman case, but Steve hadn't listened to the message until much later, after the trial was over, after Danny had died. Steve probably replayed it a thousand times since. Leave it to Danny to find a way to get in the last word. Never once had he considered one of his partner's passionate tongue lashings a gift-until now when faced with the very real prospect of never being on the receiving end of another.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he let the words soothe the raw memories of Danny falling to his knees on the sidewalk in front of the Palace. Steve felt the stray bullet that shattered the first floor window as sure at it had struck him. In fact, it took a full breath to realize he wasn't hit, and to assimilate the fact that the incredible jab to his gut was a warning of something much worse to come.

Unlucky soldiers understood this sudden shift to prey; hungry wolf becomes frightened field mouse cast in the shadow of the mighty hawk. An ambush jump started all of your senses, primed muscles with a shot of adrenaline that propelled you to react or die a horrible death. Only this time Steve was not quick enough. Spared, yet taken out as sure as if the mortal wound was his. He would never forget the look of surprise on Danny's face, or the red that bled across his chest.

There was so much blood. Too much. Even now, weeks after scrubbing it from his hands Steve could still feel the warm stickiness of it on his skin, the nauseating smell that seemed to have seeped in to every pore. It shouldn't have surprised him when his partner flat lined in the ambulance, considering Steve was coated with more blood than any human could afford to lose, but still the ominous beep had been a horrible jolt. Steve had yelled at the paramedic, putting hands on the young EMT he recognized from other instances when he or one of his team had been injured. He felt bad about it later when they recovered rhythm, but quickly lost all remorse when Danny flat lined twice more before they arrived to the hospital. Each time Steve felt a part of him torn away as if the predator were there feasting on his soul. It brought a pain comparable only to that of hearing his father murdered by Hesse.

The first time Steve played the voice mail was during the long wait through Danny's surgery. He'd checked his phone to see if Rachel or Danny's father had returned his call, and had seen the message icon by his partner's name. It took extreme effort to play. The haunting ironic words brought him to his knees, annihilated his hard fought defenses. Danny's voice, his insistence of Steve's innocence broke the dam that had been building since watching his partner go down. Danny's assurances that Steve was in no way at fault, even if it was in reference to Freeman's shooting, unlocked a torrent of emotion that had both Kono and Chin trying to maneuver through unchartered territory without a map or experienced guide. Danny was the one who usually talked Steve down from the ledge, tamed the rabid wolf that once stirred was damn difficult to coax back into its cage. Danny wasn't able and Steve wasn't willing to be consoled by anyone else. It had taken Grace and Rachel arriving for Steve to pull it back together, his promise to Danny to take care of his daughter working as the glue that would keep Steve from flying apart over the next trying hours- hours that dragged into torturous days, days which now stretched into grueling weeks.

He'd just started to play the message for a third time when the room to Danny's door opened, Liam Williams stepping out into the overly bright, quiet hallway that spoke to the travesty of spending sun-kissed Saturday afternoons in the hospital, especially in paradise. Steve watched the man's broad shoulders slump, his face morph as he left his son, and was freed from his granddaughter's presence. It seemed Steve wasn't the only one barely managing a brave front for Grace.

"She okay?" Steve stayed where he was, leaning against the adjacent wall. He hit the end button on his phone, tucking the cell safely into his pocket.

"Grace is fine." Liam ran a hand over his whiskered face, his gaze roving over Steve before shaking his head. "If you ask me, she's the only one who has a grip on this situation. We grownups don't seem to be fairing so well."

"Is she still painting Danno's fingernails?" Steve had left his charge armed with pink glitter polish and a makeup kit under the ruse of going for a coffee; he'd yet to make it to the cafeteria to retrieve. Grace was determined to pull out all stops. Steve didn't have it in him to quell her enthusiasm. He was half hoping to return to the room to hear an earful from an irate Danny about how a partner watched a guy's back especially when he was in a fucking coma.

"Her and Kono are adding Hello Kitty accent decals now." Liam joined Steve; shoulder brushing against the SEAL's as he too rested against the one wall vacant of decorative paintings meant to bring cheer to a place that was void of such sentiment.

It had surprised Steve when he'd picked up Danny's father at the airport; found him every bit a match to his stature and build. He had expected an older version of his partner even though all of Danny's descriptions of the man and his dedication to the Williams' family legacy of service and protection made him sound larger than life. Steve chalked Danny's version up to a son's hero worship but found Liam every bit the picture Danny had painted, physically much more a reflection of his younger son, Matthew Williams than that of his firstborn. The only similarity between Danny and his father besides their unshakeable dedication to uphold their duty to Joe Public seemed to be in their coloring and knack for brutal honesty.

"I'm not sure what accent decals are, but I'm certain Danny Boy would not be pleased at what's going on in there, or out here for that matter. You look like shit, McGarrett."

Steve snorted. "I think pissing off Danny is the priority mission for the day. Accent decals are as good a way as any."

"Grace explained you and her have a brilliant plan at work." Liam looked at Steve with Danny's eyes. "From what your team tells me, you seem to be holding up your end of the bargain in stellar fashion, Commander."

"Not you, too?" Steve expected a little more understanding from the veteran fire fighter. After all, on their first night sharing vigil at Danny's bedside, they'd talked about the depth and sanctity of a partnership forged in the heat of battle, about what it was like to watch your brother fall in the line of duty, or at least Steve had listened intently while Liam talked. Liam liked to talk and it left no question as to where Danny got his gift for gab. Steve felt as if they'd forged a kinship in the following weeks with Liam staying in the spare room at his place when they weren't at the hospital. He couldn't very well let the man stay at Danny's rat-trap of an apartment, a hotel seemed far too impersonal for his best friend's family. Admittedly, Steve wasn't the best of company, but Liam proved the type not to need an attentive host. Instead, he'd made himself right at home, much in the way Danny had done from the beginning. "I'm fine. I don't know what everyone is so worried about. I'm not going to do anything crazy."

"You forget my son has told me all about you. From the get go, it was 'McGarrett did this', 'McGarrett did that', and 'Dad, you're not going to believe what that crazy sonofabitch dragged me into today'. I hadn't heard him prattle on about somebody so much since he was in sixth grade and Veronica Muncie got boobs, but I have to admit it was a nice change from his laments about how horrible he found Hawaii." Liam ran his hands along the sides of his thick silver blond hair. "And just to clarify, in my day, punching out the highest governing official in the state would be considered a little loopy, even for a Navy man."

"I didn't punch Denning. I might have put hands on him, and there might have been some shaking taking place, but there was no swinging of fists." Thanks mostly to Chin. Steve let his gaze go to the ceiling with a huff. "Not that the bastard didn't deserve it. He's such a pompous ass. It's his fault we haven't made an arrest."

"Chin said the governor refused to let you work my son's case."

"His exact words were that I had proven by past actions not to possess the restraint to bring in Rich Murray for questioning." Steve clenched his jaw, remembering the man's audacity. He looked at Liam. "I've brought in war criminals, third world dictators, and men that have done things to women and children that would have the great and mighty governor puking on his designer loafers."

"You've never had to bring in the man who shot down your partner like a dog in the streets."

"No." Steve searched Liam's gaze, finding nothing that hinted at judgment. "But I brought in the man who murdered my father."

"You also stole ten million dollars from a police evidence locker when one of your people was threatened, broke into the former governor's mansion, was arrested for her subsequent murder, escaped from prison, launching a very expensive man hunt from what Danny told me and that's not even beginning to touch on some of the other stuff my son has said you've done in the pursuit of what you deemed right."

"Your son talks too damn much." Steve pushed away from the wall, putting some space between him and Danny's father. He managed to keep his tone neutral out of respect. "There is a method to my madness which I believe Danny's come to appreciate over the years. I've been trained to get results, and if the governor had just trusted me to do my job, then he could have saved himself another expensive man hunt."

Liam Williams folded his arms over his chest, tracking Steve with his piercing gaze. "Not to mention a long drawn out trial and another prisoner in the already overcrowded prison system."

Steve glared at the other man; not bothering to deny the accusation that he would have found a reason to finish Murray. Rich Murray was delusional; resisting arrest, suicide by cop would not be a hard sell. Steve wanted the man dead, and if he were completely honest with himself he wasn't sure if he would have been able to muster the restraint he'd somehow managed with Hesse. After all, it wasn't like Danny was around to answer to this time, and Rich Murray had thrown down the gauntlet with his taunting profession of guilt.

The call had come the day after Danny's shooting when HPD had been scrambling to come up with leads from the scene. They all knew that the first twenty four hours of an investigation were crucial and Steve, despite not willing to leave the hospital and Danny, sent Chin to supervise in his absence even though Denning had already assigned the task to his pet, Weston. While Kono began weeding through a threat profile of the most likely suspects, Steve had run possible scenarios through his head, including his long time nemesis Wo Fat. He never latched onto the Hillary Freeman connection. Despite the obscenities her father had shouted at him while being escorted from the judge's chambers, Rich Murray had not even registered a blip on Steve's radar. In all fairness, at the time Steve hadn't known the man was a former Army Ranger, a retired corporal who had served as the sniper for his highly decorated reconnaissance team and now ran a prominent security consulting firm in Dallas. The pieces easily fell into place as soon as Steve answered the unknown call. The speech was almost the same as the one the judge had given Hillary Freeman's family, the words slightly twisted and tweaked to make them more poignant and pain-inducing to Steve.

'_I'm sorry about your partner, Commander McGarrett. Please give my condolences to his family. It was an unfortunate circumstance that he became caught up in something that really had nothing to do with him- a damn shame that his young promising life was cut short by a cruel twist of fate. I hope they can take comfort in the fact that the swift hand of justice has prevailed and that the man truly responsible for his death will suffer an appropriate consequence. The real villain in this story has been punished. I've made damn sure of that. Isn't that right, McGarrett?"_

"I wouldn't have blamed you if you had killed the sonofabitch," Liam's rough voice pulled Steve from his dark thoughts and the SEAL felt the back breaking weight of guilt as a lone tear worked its way down the older man's cheek, disappearing into his short beard. Liam cleared his throat, scrubbing a hand over his face. "But I know that Danny wouldn't want that for you, for Grace. He'd damn well expect you to do the harder thing, the _right_ thing, which is to let the system work its course. That's what he fought for, what he believed in. Danny Boy has always been a rule follower. I think it helps him make sense of this screwy universe."

Steve knew it was true. His partner would probably have sided with the governor, arguing that Steve's similar background to Murray did not outweigh the fact that Steve would be clouded by his emotions, his thirst to avenge his family. It wouldn't be the first time Danny had been right about Steve's Achille's heel.

"You know Danny hated me when we first met." Steve felt a smile tug at his lips as he remembered that day at his father's house when he and Danny had ended up in the first of many stand off's to come. Steve hoped like hell there would be more. "He thought I went against everything that made a good cop, but I forced him to be my partner anyway by pulling strings with the governor. I didn't care if I turned his universe end over end. All I knew was that he was new to the island but already had a reputation as a by the books stickler with an arrests record and conviction rate that spoke for itself. He was one of the true blues-like my dad and I needed him to achieve my mission. I got him shot on our first case together and have been responsible for him getting hurt countless times since then."

"I'm aware." Liam smiled, taking any recrimination from his words. "His mother has wanted me to come to Hawaii to have a little man to man with the crazy Navy SEAL terrorizing her baby for quite some time, in fact her ire was up so at one point after you supposedly shot the former governor that she considered hopping a plane herself despite her being absolutely terrified of flying since 9-11. I talked her into praying for the salvation of your wayward soul and lighting a candle for Danny instead. You're lucky my wife is an extremely devout woman and that Grace and Rachel convinced her of your innocence."

"I'm sorry I couldn't meet her this trip." Steve knew how hard it had been for Danny's mother not to come to Hawaii to be with her son, especially after the doctors had given him what was equivalent to a death sentence. In the end it had been her youngest daughter's risky pregnancy and not her phobia of flying that kept her in New Jersey. Danny's sister, suffering from third trimester Toxemia was due any day now and that left Liam to take care of their oldest child solo.

"You'll have your chance and it will only take her seeing you with her Grace for all to be forgiven. Nell Williams will claim you as one of her own, right along with Chin, Kono and the rest of your team; you'll forever have a standing invitation to come back to Jersey for whatever holiday she can gorge you with food and force you to fawn over picture albums of her babies."

Steve tensed at Liam's implication. He hadn't said the words funeral or wake, but Steve felt them lurking between the lines just the same. Danny's father had left his return plane ticket open-ended but believed the day of him flying home would be coming very soon. That would have been fine and well if Steve hadn't known for certain that Liam completely expected to be escorting his son's body back with him when he returned to Jersey. He'd heard Liam tell Chin as much.

"Maybe you and Mrs. Williams will come for a vacation soon. You could do a cruise, or Danny will bring us all home for a visit one day. He talks about Jersey Christmases like they're something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. I'd like to see him in his element, eat at one of the many restaurants that he claims has ruined him for any other food forever."

Liam stared at him, an all too familiar look of pity reflecting in his eyes. The glance was made worse by the fact Steve could see Danny so clearly mirrored in his father's gaze, the tilt of his head, the timbre of his voice nearly matching Steve's partner's 'SEAL whisperer' tone. "Son, I think you need to come to terms with what the rest of us have finally accepted. Daniel's not going to wake up. My boy's a fighter, but this time the battle was too big even for a heart like his. He's gone; his body just hasn't given up yet."

"He's not gone!" Steve growled. "And you're the one who shouldn't have given up yet. What is wrong with you people? You're his _father_. Dads never give up on their children. Danny would never give up on Grace. He would never give up on you, on any of us. Ever."

"You think I don't want to believe like you, McGarrett?" Liam closed the distance between them in two quick strides. His hands took flight as he spoke, poking a finger in Steve's chest once they were face to face. Steve had to bite his lip to keep from reacting, to keep his own hands in check firmly at his side as the situation echoed painful reminders from the past. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Danny's father.

"You think I don't want to hold onto a little girl's faith that her daddy is going to pull off the miracle she's praying for? I was there when he took his first breath, his first step. I was there for scraped knees, homeruns, and all the heartbreaks in between. I would trade places with him in an instant if the God my wife believes in so completely would just be merciful and let an old man leave this world without losing another one of his children. You may be his partner, his best friend, and I know that you love him, that Grace loves him, but damn it, I loved him first."

"Is everything okay?" Neither of them noticed Chin Ho Kelley's approach from the hallway that held the elevators, too caught up in the tangle of the terrible moment they had stumbled into. The Lieutenant stopped close to them, but didn't move to intervene. "Steve?"

"Everything's fine." Steve took a step away from Liam, running his hands through his hair. "We're good."

Liam held his gaze for another long moment, his breathing heavy and harsh. He didn't even glance at Chin. "I'm going for some air. Tell Grace I'll be back before she leaves."

With that he was gone and Steve once more relaxed against the wall, banging his head against the hard surface a few times for good measure. Danny would be so damn disappointed in him.

"You alright?"

"I'm great." Steve lifted his head, taking in the fact Chin was dressed in 'office' attire and not his off duty trademark t-shirt and jeans. "Any change in the case?"

Chin shook his head. "No new leads since the flight manifest. Everything points to Murray leaving the island. His son-in-law backs up the story."

"I'm not buying that." Steve might have been temporarily relieved of duty by Denning, but the governor couldn't control what the Navy SEAL did with his free time, nor could he keep him from using his military contacts. Steve had dug up everything he could on Rich Murray. The man was not the type to leave a mission unfulfilled and the media had made sure that the entire island was aware that Five-O's Detective Williams was still very much alive, if not well. HPD had guards on Danny until the flight plans surfaced and Murray was believed safely on his way to Belize. No one seemed to want to entertain Steve's protests that it all seemed too convenient-including his partners.

As proof, Chin redirected the conversation. "What were you and Mr. Williams arguing about? It sounded intense. Has something changed with Danny's condition?"

"No. That was…nothing." Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just a misunderstanding."

"You've had a lot of those lately, Brah."

"People should stop pissing me off."

"You could try reciprocating the favor."

"You got something on your mind, Chin?" Steve held his arms out in an invitation for Chin to give him his best shot. He knew he was being an ass, but for the life of him couldn't seem to stop himself. "Spit it out."

Chin's brow furrowed, a rare frown marring his features. There was a reason Danny called Kelly the mother of their group. Nobody managed a disappointed look quite like Chin. "I have plenty to say, but I don't exactly feel like wasting my breath."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve was aching for a fight, his blood stirred by the confrontation with Liam and the man's irksome realistic streak. He might not have had it in him to tangle with Danny's father, but Chin was family and therefore fair game.

"It means I could talk until I'm blue in the face and you wouldn't hear a word I'm saying. The last three weeks are evidence of that. There's only one person you listen to when you're like this and ..."

"And he's long gone, isn't that right?" Steve was now invading Chin's space, body language begging the other man to do something about it. "You agree with Danny's dad, Rachel and the doctors. You're on their side."

"I didn't say that, Brah." Chin shook his head. "I'm on your side-_Danny's _side."

"You could have fooled me. I'm not blind. I see it written all over your face after we get an update from Danny's doctor. You don't think I understand what's going on with all those looks you and Kono keep exchanging-the way Rachel excuses herself from the room so she thinks I won't know she's crying? You've given up. All of you have given up."

"We're hurting and trying to cope the best we know how." Chin took a chance, reaching out and placing a hand on Steve's arm. "Despite what you think, we're still here."

Steve shook off the touch, knowing he was being unreasonable but unable to stop the momentum he'd picked up. "You're here alright. Like vultures waiting for the inevitable."

Chin's look of disappointment was back, magnified tenfold and twisted with a shocked hurt that had that knife of guilt twisting in Steve's gut. "How could you think that?"

"You haven't given me any evidence to the contrary." Steve folded his arms over his chest, watching as the hurt in Chin's gaze blossomed into an emotion he could better deal with-good old anger.

"Are you trying to give me yet another reason to kick your ass, McGarrett because really I have a long list already and contrary to what most people foolishly believe about me there is a limit to my patience. You're on the threshold, my friend."

"You can always try me, Kelley. Give it your best shot." Steve spread his arms again, finding his fighting stance. He often wondered what would happen if Chin lost control, if he allowed himself to be ruled by whatever strong emotions that rumbled beneath his calm placid surface. Danny liked to wager Chin could take them both if provoked but Steve was not above poking a sleeping tiger, in fact he revealed in the distraction it offered. A Navy shrink had once told him that his particular personality type tended to withdraw emotionally and react physically when thrust into a situation out of his control. Steve had discounted the psychobabble, but couldn't refute the astute observation when every time such situation occurred Steve found himself doing exactly what the doctor predicted.

"You'd like that wouldn't you? Someone to punish you-to deliver the physical blows equivalent to the emotional ones you've already dealt yourself. It would confirm what you already believe, that you are somehow responsible for Danny being here?"

"Fuck you, man." Steve was pissed that his prodding had not increased Chin's anger, but somehow dampened it, diluted it the wrath he was trying to stoke until it was watered down to mere pity instead. Obviously, he and Chin had very different personality types. "This isn't about me and my guilt. This is about Danny's ohana turning their backs on him."

"You call what we've been doing these last three weeks abandonment? Every minute that has not been taken up with finding the person responsible for this, we have all been here or with Grace. Kono hasn't even been home, staying in the city with Jenna on the nights she hasn't bunked here so she would be closer. Even off duty officers from HPD and Kamekona have taken shifts to make sure Danny is never alone-that _you_ are not alone. You're not the only one going through this, the only one terrified of losing a friend, a brother."

The catch in Chin's voice, the overly bright shine of his dark eyes had Steve holding back on the reply he'd already formed in his head, the biting accusation he'd wanted to lash out with. His own fury was quickly cooling, leaving him once more with the deep ache of grief, that black hole of bleakness threatening to take him under.

"Stop being so hard on the people trying to help you," Chin continued. "You're not going to drive us away. We love Danny, we love _you _and we want you both to come back to us."

"Boss?" Kono's soft voice had them both turning towards Danny's room as she stepped out. Her panic-laced tone doused the last of Steve's heat, cold dread reclaiming its hold as sure as a relentless undertow. "I think you need to be in here."

"Danny?" Steve felt his heart kick up, dread landing on his chest like a cinder block, all thoughts of what he was trying to accomplish with Chin forgotten.

"No change. It's Grace." Kono stepped out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her-its soft click as loud as a gunshot. She was upset, her hands shaking as she lifted them to wipe at her face. "She's crying…I don't know what to do to help her."

"Shit." Steve pressed the heel of his hands against his eyes. "It's okay, I've got her."

"Are you sure?" Kono bit her lip, all of her usual confidence and self assurance replaced by a palpable helplessness that made her appear younger and more vulnerable than usual. "I've never seen her like this."

"I'm sure." Steve nodded, managing a grasp on his slipping control now that a concrete task presented itself like a bobbing life line. "Let Chin take you out of here for a while. Go get some decent food, some rest."

Kono took a shaky breath, stepping towards her cousin who moved forward to offer a hand, but Steve stopped him. Instead he was the one to take Kono by the shoulders, studying her face. His rookie wasn't exactly a newbie anymore, but the last three weeks had changed her in ways the last two years hadn't touched. Kono's eyes were haunted, skin pale and pinched with weariness. He would have liked to have blamed the lack of sun she seemed to need to thrive, but new it had more to do with grief. He tried to think of what Danny would do, what his partner would argue that any 'normal' human being should be capable of communicating.

"Boss, you okay?" Kono tilted her head, frowning at him before sharing one of those infamous glances with her cousin.

"I'm sorry, Kono." Steve figured an apology was better late than never. He didn't give her a chance to respond or himself an opportunity to chicken out. He drew her against him in a hard hug. "I've been an ass, and I'm sorry."

She tensed at first, and he imagined she was mouthing something akin to 'what the fuck' over his shoulder to Chin, who no doubt was looking on like some Zen guru proud of his emotionally retarded apprentice. Danny would have been eating it up, goading him on with a 'well-done, Grasshopper'.

It didn't take but a moment and probably some silent prompting from Chin for Kono's arms to tighten around him, enthusiastically reciprocating the rare embrace. Steve found himself leaning into the hug, realizing that maybe there was another way to escape the darkness besides his old fall back of anger.

"It's okay, Boss," she whispered. "It's okay"

"No, it's not." He let her go, forcing a tremulous grin when she continued to stare at him like he might self destruct at any moment. "But it will be, as soon as Danny wakes up."

She didn't reply but her smile was genuine, a hint of twinkle returning to her solemn gaze. Steve let her go and took a deep breath. He hoped he could manage things with Grace as easily.

He understood why Kono was so shaken when he entered the hospital room. The weeks had found it transformed by Grace's artwork, flowers and balloons from get well wishers, even a disturbing caricature of a hairy dolphin had made its way onto one of the bare walls, as well as some touches from home sent in care packages from Danny's stateside family- a handmade quilt, a Yankees pennant flag.

Despite their valiant attempts at camouflage, the area tenaciously retained its underlying menace like black mold under a coat of fresh paint. The many machines monitoring his partner's condition with their beeping and hissing were constant reminders they were in hostile territory, on enemy land fighting a possibly losing battle. Kono had brought speakers for Grace's IPod and they had taken to playing music, podcasts of ballgames. Sometimes they left the television on to mute out the cacophony. Today Grace's sobs drown out the familiar noises and every bit of warmth Steve had siphoned from Kono fled in the face of finding Danny's daughter curled around her unnaturally still father, small body quaking with misery.

"Gracie?" Steve moved to the bed, placing one hand on her damp face. The other he let rest on Danny's forehead, hoping to draw not only some comfort from the contact but possibly leech some of his partner's parenting wisdom. "What's all this, Kiddo?"

"He won't wake up," she choked, keeping her face against her father. "Danno won't wake up."

Steve took a seat on the side of the mattress by Danny. He felt his own emotions swell to the surface when his partner remained unmoving, an unwitting silent participant in what was taking place. The lump that Steve had grown used to in the back of his throat seemed to inflate from golf ball to grapefruit size, threatening to steal his breath. He saw Grace's hands were wound tightly in Danny's hospital gown, worried briefly that she might cause further injury even though the one thing the coma had given Danny was time for his gunshot wounds to heal. It was the unseen damage, the mystery the human body still held for brilliant doctors that kept Danny from them.

"Grace."

She finally lifted her head from Danny's chest to look up at Steve. Her eyes were red and swollen, cheeks and forehead blotched and puffy with strawberry shaped patches of red. Strands of dark hair stuck to her damp skin.

"I told him everything! I told him about the governor and about my new clothes. I told him you said the mother of all bad words and that we saw jelly fish and a shark fin this morning when we were surfing, even though you said it was a dolphin. I told him Stan was going to send me to boarding school in England and that I was thinking about kissing Tommy even though both of those things are lies."

He kept his gaze on her, his eyes burning with empathy. Steve didn't interrupt or reach for her. Rachel had told him Grace hadn't cried since the first night Danny was shot, and Steve worried that he had done her some great disservice by recruiting her for his Team 'Suck it up and bring Danno Back at all costs'. She needed to let go, to lay the burden down.

Steve remembered the first time he cried over his mother. It was weeks after her death when he'd gone to the mailbox and found a gardening magazine with her name on it. That was when it sank in that she wouldn't be around to see her precious flowers in full bloom in the summer-the moment he accepted she wasn't coming back.

Grace was crying so hard now she was gagging between gasping breaths, shaking the mattress the three of them shared like a warning tremor before the fatal quake that promised to plunge them all into the abyss. "I want my Daddy. I want him to come back right now!" She howled.

Steve had been too old, too caught up in his sixteen year old hormones to allow himself to voice so plainly and loudly what he'd felt that April morning so long ago; but he'd screamed it on the inside, bellowed silently for all he was worth the same sentiment Grace was wailing now. He reached for her, lifting her across Danny, pulling her onto his lap. She scrambled to get closer, attempting to climb through his skin, burrow away from this terrible thing hurting her. He cupped the back of her head as she buried her face against his neck, her hands fisting in the back of his t-shirt.

"I painted his nails pink! I put lip gloss on him," She hiccupped. "Why won't he wake up, Uncle Steve? Why?"

"I don't know, Gracie. I wish I had the answers. If I did, I would fix this. I promise I would fix it." He rocked her, rubbing her back the way he'd seen Danny do the day they'd found the dying seal. It was caught in discarded fishing line on the stretch of beach near Steve's place. Grace had been inconsolable.

She begged her father to take the struggling animal to the vet though the poor thing was way past any treatment. Grace refused to leave in its final moments, kneeling beside the seal's trembling form as it drew a last breath. As ridiculous and impossible as it would have been, Steve wanted nothing more than to hunt down the fisherman responsible and make him pay but instead Danny knowingly charged his partner with burying the seal, while he was the one to shush his daughter's tears. He calmed her with kisses, hugs and his trademark humor. Danny, who offered no help now, not even solace with his presence. In fact, the warmth of his body against Steve's seemed traitorous and Steve couldn't bear to look at his partner, whose slack face, silent hands and slowly rising chest felt cruelly mocking. The SEAL closed his eyes.

Again, Steve didn't have someone to punish, the man who shot Danny almost as elusive to him as the careless fisherman had been. He didn't even have a body to bury this time so he took a deep breath, inhaling in the lingering trace of ocean still present in Grace's hair and on her skin from their morning swim. He envisioned dappled sun on the water, the sound of her laughter and surf crashing against sand and let the familiar scent of the sea offer the comfort his best friend couldn't while he tried to give Grace what she needed.

"Danno would wake up for us if he could, Kiddo. I swear he would and not because he's pissed at something one of us has done but because he loves us. Your Danno loves you, Grace. He loves you more than anything and he would do anything for you. There's nothing I believe more."

"I just want him to wake up." She sniffed, her piteous sobs wearing down from what Steve suspected was sheer exhaustion and adrenaline dump instead of any real relief he was providing.

"Me too, Gracie." He clutched her closer, leaning back against the head of the bed. He opened his eyes, staring down at Danny who stayed lost to them, as if he were a cruel mirage, a mere echo of what should have been there. Steve kissed the top of Grace's head, feeling her body go boneless against his chest. "Me too."

Steve didn't know how long they lay there, Grace heavy in his arms, her now easy breathing matching tempo with Danny's. When the door opened, he expected a nurse, perhaps Liam or one of his team returning. Rich Murray was once again the last person on Steve's mind.

To be continued…


	4. Chapter 4

What We Bury

By: Ridley C. James

Beta: Tidia

A/N: This is a shorter chapter but I figured since tonight is a special night no one would notice. Thanks to everyone who took time to write me and mark this story on alerts. You guys are awesome and as a reward I arranged for CBS to _finally_ air the season premiere. It wasn't easy, but you all are worth it. Feel free to tell me how you felt about it, oh and you can mention the story, too. PS. Some kind reviewer mentioned that I might want to put a slight spoiler alert on this story because I reference characters that will be introduced in Season 2. I apologize for not doing this earlier, though the mention of said characters is very small in passing. I sincerely hope no one was spoiled.

RCJ

"_There are things we don't want to happen but have to accept, things we don't want to know but have to learn, and people we can't live without but have to let go."-_

Rich Murray stepped into the room, pulling a gun which he promptly aimed at Steve's head. Steve tensed, his hypothalamus doing its job to spur adrenal glands into action. The body's ability to transform dopamine into adrenaline was a beautiful thing if one was experienced in controlling the effect, able to harness and use the surge of power for an advantage and not succumb to the debilitating effects that could render a person helpless. That's where military training and the experiences of a cop came in to play. Steve expected the momentary paralyzing freeze, the rapid increase in heart rate, the sudden dizziness as blood rushed to areas most needed for fight or flight. He steeled himself, easily finding his composure and his voice, the sound razor-edged despite his low timbre.

"How the hell did you get in here, Murray?"

"Stay where you are and put your hands where I can see them." Murray closed the door, keeping the weapon trained on Steve. His thinning gray hair was darker than what it had been when Steve had seen him in court, a mustache and beard covering a face that had then been clean shaven weeks ago. He was dressed in khaki pants, a well-worn Hawaiian print shirt layered with a light jacket emblazoned with the mascot from one of the local schools. It was a good choice of disguise, completely ambiguous.

Despite Steve's body's well-practiced use of stress hormones, he had no time to put the adrenaline to good use and react. Grace sleeping soundly in his arms kept him from reaching for the weapon that should have been at his side, but was missing because of his dismissal from duty. He had no choice but to do as Murray ordered, lifting the hand he had resting on Danny's chest, the other he kept tightly wrapped around Grace. "Surely you know what a stupid move this is on your part."

"I know I made it in this room without anyone so much as noticing me. Your team passed me in the parking lot on their way out. The old man that's been holding court in here nearly collided with me in his hurry to get into the chapel. As a security consultant I have to say this is a shoddy set-up. I expected more from Hawaii's finest. It's no wonder people turn to the private sector these days."

Steve felt the heaviness of Grace against his chest anew, the heat of Danny pressing along his side painful for different reasons now. He had sent his only backup away for dinner. No nurse would check in unless called for, Danny's doomed condition warranting little more than monitoring and the routine change of IV's at this point. Who knew how long Liam might stay to bargain with God? Steve had let the turmoil of his emotions overrun his instincts, placing them all in danger. He should have known better. "What do you want, Murray?"

"What do you think I want, Commander?"

"I think you want the hurting to stop." Steve damn well knew he did. It was what drove him to hunt Wo Fat for the last two years, what fired his current desire to leap from the bed and tear Murray limb from limb. Instead, he tried to conjure some feeling of empathy, some shred of common decency he was sure Danny would have easily been able to pull out of his 'good cop' repertoire to talk the suspect down. Weeks ago when he had felt nothing but remorse and guilt when he thought of Rich Murray it would have been easy, but now it sounded false and hollow to even his ears. All those regrets were buried beneath the primal instinct to protect, to destroy what had hurt his partner, was now threatening what was left of his family.

"I buried my daughter!" Murray stepped closer to the bed, his hand shaking ever so slightly. His dark eyes sparked with an intensity Steve had witnessed in hostage situations and from distraught loved ones of those slain in battle. Crazy could so easily be just another shade of grief. Murray was completely over that fine line.

Steve sat forward, blocking more of Danny's body, clutching Grace closer. She stirred in his arms at the sudden movement and Murray's raised voice, mumbling in her sleep. _Danno_ came out in a warm breath like a soft caress against Steve's cheek, and he felt something more familiar to him than the adrenaline stir deep within his body.

"There is no end to that kind of pain," Murray growled, reclaiming some of his composure. "You should have started to figure that out by now."

"I can make it stop. Just give me the gun." Steve knew only one sure way to end Murray's suffering and the threat to the people he loved. The wolf was back, face to face with a predator no longer given the advantage of anonymity and higher ground. "We can make this better for everyone."

"Your true nature is showing through, McGarrett."Murray shifted the gun to Grace and Danny, his hand steady once more, telling of his experience and ease. "You might look like a broken man, out of uniform, haggard face and that sweet little girl sleeping in your arms, but I know what you are-same as I knew the day when that fancy lawyer called you to the stand. The suit and the attempt at sincere regret didn't fool me for a second. I recognized you right away-a wolf in sheep's clothing."

"It takes one to know one." Steve took his eyes off Murray's hands long enough to glance at Grace. He kept his voice lowered, praying she wouldn't wake up. "I'm going to put her down now and we can take this out of here where no more civilians can be needlessly hurt. They're not part of this-never should have been."

"Just like my daughter never should have been a part of your bust." Murray swung the gun to point at Steve's head once more.

"That was an accident and you know it. Gracie is innocent like your daughter."

"You brought her here." Murray shook his head, clearly agitated. "It's your fault she's involved in this mess. She should be home with her mother."

Steve stood slowly, carefully placing Grace in the spot he vacated. He rested his hand on her head when her eyes fluttered, finding his face, but not really focusing. Steve held his breath waiting until she turned and curled into Danny with a deep sigh before facing Murray once more.

"She's Danny's daughter. She belongs with him." He lowered his hands to his side, but took a step closer to Murray. "Did you know you were going to leave a little girl fatherless when you took that shot?"

"I knew someone had to pay. That's all I cared about."

"Why Danny? He wasn't involved in the shooting." Steve knew the answer, understood all too well why Murray had shot Danny, but his best option was to keep the man talking, wait for any distraction that might present itself.

"You mean why not that wet behind the ears kid, Officer Keanu-the one who put the bullet in my daughter?" Murray arched a brow." We both know the grunts are just following orders. It's the brass that have blood on their hands."

"Then you should have shot me." Steve had wished for that every day since that morning in front of the Palace.

"And let you have a quick, clean end?" Murray shook his head, his eyes watering. "Where's the justice in that, Lieutenant Commander?"

"You call what you did justice?"

"As close as it comes in this life." Rich Murray waved the gun at Danny and Steve inched sideways, his heart hammering against his sternum. "I researched you, found out quickly there wasn't a lot of choices when it came to making you understand what you had cost me. No wife, no children. You have a sister, but she lives in the states and from what I dug up you're not that close, but then there was your partner. Something about a man's partner, the person you count on to keep you alive. It can become as strong as any bond, nearly as close as that of a parent and child because you feel so completely responsible for each other. It only took tailing you two a few nights to figure out who Steve McGarrett would grieve for the most. I waited, was going to take you out at his funeral after I watched you hurt, but that day didn't come."

Steve swallowed hard, holding back the fury insisting he just take out Murray, consequences be damned. He wasn't concerned for himself, but what could happen to Grace and Danny. He swore he heard his partner's voice in his head reminding him of what became of all the delicate china in the shop when a rampaging bull got loose. "You still got what you wanted, Murray. Danny's gone, just enough of him here to keep the wound open-both of our suffering prolonged. It went even better than you planned."

"My first shot would have been a kill shot, but he moved in just the right moment." Rich snorted. "Ironic that such a misstep on my daughter's part got her killed, don't you think."

"I think there are unpredictable occurrences that even the most thought out strategies can't account for."

"Spoken like a true officer." Murray shook his head. "They teach you that damn speech at Annapolis?"

"No. It's a lesson I'm still learning." Steve cut his gaze to Danny. His best friend usually paraphrased, putting a Jersey spin on it. 'Life's a fickle bitch, Steven, get used to it'. 'Chance is every superhero's kryptonite, Captain America. That's why back up is non-negotiable'. And his classic, 'You want to make God laugh, partner, just tell him your plans.'

"It's bullshit and you know it," Murray said as if he could read Steve's mind, and thus knew Danny's musings. "With a gun in my hand, I'm the only captain of my fate, and in this case I'm in control of yours as well. I'm going to end you now."

"So get it over with." Steve nodded to the door. "Just not here, not in front of Grace. She's seen the people she loves hurt enough as it is. You've taken her father, at least let her have some peace."

"We both know in here is the only place I have an advantage over you. You're younger, quicker, and better trained. Outside these walls you have nothing to lose, and that means gun or not, I'm at a severe disadvantage. I can't let you live with my girl in the ground."

Steve cursed his luck that Murray although certifiable in his grief, maintained a wide streak of common sense. He glanced at the door, willing an interruption. Steve wasn't afraid to die, but he did not want his death witnessed by Grace. The thoughts of her waking up to the sounds of gunshots, terrified and with only the shell of her father for protection twisted that invisible knife in his gut. Danny would never forgive him. "I'll give you my word not to try anything."

"Your word means nothing to me, McGarrett."

"Then at least let me send her out of the room. She'll listen to me." Steve was almost certain that wasn't true considering Grace was a Williams. The thought to tell her no had never occurred to him but his track record with getting her father to do what he said was far from stellar. Steve was desperate. He could not fail his partner, break the promise he had made to Danny.

"I've let you stall me long enough." Murray's face softened, even as he raised the gun level to Steve's head. "I'm sorry for the girl, but I've got my daughter to think about."

Steve had already made the decision to act, knowing if he charged Murray the chances of him taking a fatal hit, although probable ,were still less than if he was frozen in the sharpshooter's sights. It had worked for Danny, and had been disastrous for Hillary Freeman, although unlike Steve neither knew a bullet was heading for them. Steve figured he had fifty-fifty odds, odds which miraculously increased when the alarm sounded from one of the machines by Danny's bed side.

Murray startled at the loud beep, gun hand moving with his line of sight as he sought out the threat. Steve instantly recognized the sound he'd endured three times in the ambulance ride with his partner to the hospital, the ominous tone he'd feared every day he'd sat vigil by Danny, praying for a miracle to bring his friend back to him. He channeled his grief to rage, letting it propel him into Murray taking them both down in a tangle of arms and legs.

"Daddy?" Grace's sleep-filled voice reached him over Murray's surprised grunt, her fear blending badly with the alarm that continued to sound. "Daddy? Uncle Steve?"

Steve focused on Murray, his hands wrapping around the man's wrist, trying to gain leverage on the gun as they rolled over one another on the floor. His first punch connected with the gunman's jaw, but Murray was a formidable opponent, his grip proving sound. He brought the weapon up, the metal bruising against Steve's temple. Even as Steve tried to roll away he realized what was about to happen.

The only blessing was that the loud blasts from the gun momentarily covered the awful monotone beep filling Danny's room. The blast followed by the subsequent explosion of pain in Steve's head drowned out the ringing of the other monitors that now sounded, alerting the nurse's station that their patient was in severe distress. So caught in this new onslaught, Steve didn't comprehend Grace's shouts for help or that Chin Ho and Kono had rushed into the hospital room, takeout bags of food discarded for their drawn weapons.

Confused, he tried to sit up, to scramble after Murray, who dropped the weapon and leapt to his feet, but Steve's body betrayed him. He managed to lift a hand, a Herculean feat allowing him to touch his head.

Steve's fingers came away wet with blood, a sensation that brought a wealth of memories too raw and fresh to the surface-a flash of Danny's chest painted with red. The smell of copper sent him spiraling to a place where Kono's frightened calls couldn't reach him where he was lost to Grace's panicked crying, and most importantly Steve McGarrett slipped away to somewhere he could no longer hear the terrible, terrible sound that was his best friend dying.

The sudden quiet was like being at the bottom of the sea. It slowly receded along with the pain in his head to reveal a lulling sound that was as comforting to Steve McGarrett as Grace's soft breathing. It was the siren song of the surf- water pounding against sand.

Steve took a deep breath surprised to find not the chemical smell of hospital, but ocean air and brine.

He forced his eyes open to a bright blue sky swimming overhead afire with late day sunlight. The unexpected brightness had him blinking, squeezing his eyes shut. It was the water dripping on his face, the unexpected grip on his arm that had him looking up once more. This time the blue that greeted him was a slightly different shade from Hawaiian sky, swirled with colors from the sea, alight with a mix of confusion and concern. Danny Williams, alive, well and dripping wet leaned over him with a grim face.

"Danno?"

"What the hell have you done now, Steven?"

To be continued…


	5. Chapter 5

What We Bury

By: Ridley James

Beta: Tidia

A/N: I don't know if anyone else out there is as concerned as I am about the turn of our favorite show, but I for one cannot understand why the writers and powers that be have decided to change a formula that in my opinion was working brilliantly. This isn't so much about the new character, but characters and the skewed dynamic that they bring-the forced relationships that ensue. From the two minute preview of the Steve and Joe show for this week, things are not going to get any better. The only thing I can do is fill out a comment on CBS's website and write fiction to try and remedy what has apparently gone the way of the ghost this season. I strongly suggest anyone else who has a feeling on the subject do the same at CBS's site. I know Lenkov is listening because he tweeted today promising more Danno and McGarrett, but he didn't actually say they would be together only that they would be awesome. I'm guessing that means five minutes of screen time. So, if anyone else out there is concerned, let your woes be known. Feedback is the only way for a writer, or in this case show runner, to know how his work is being received. For the first time since the show started I am not watching the show in real time tonight. My heart just can't take another episode like last week.

RCJ

"_We need in love to practice only this: letting each other go. For holding on comes easily-we do not need to learn it."-Rilke_

Steve McGarrett had never once dreamed of his mother. The nights right after her death he'd found hard to sleep, afraid she would come to him in his dreams, not as the beautiful smiling woman he'd known all his life, but as the mangled body his highly imaginative mind conjured when he thought of the wreck that stole her from him. It never happened. Months later when her face began to grow foggy, when he could no longer recall the rich sound of her laughter in his memories, he grew brave and prayed to meet her in his sleep, to see her no matter if it was in the throes of a nightmare. She never came.

Neither had his father after his death-a man Steve used to dream of all the time after being sent away from his home. Steve wasn't sure if he wielded that much unconscious control over his mind-like one of the superpowers Danny often accused him of having, or if he did actually dream about them, but protected himself by not remembering it afterward. Either way the fact the dead were either unable to get through to him, or he simply refused to see them gave him hope his partner leaning over him now was not some phantom conjuring but the real thing.

"Danny. It's really you?" Steve reached out a hand to his friend, hoping his theory proved true.

Danny's hand grasped his, wet and sandy, but more importantly, warm and tangible. "It's me, you big goof."

"How? I don't understand." Steve let Danny pull him to sitting, not letting go of his partner even after he was vertical and steady.

Danny gave their grasped hands a raised brow, but didn't pull away. "I was really hoping when you dropped in on my little private getaway that you might have some of the answers."

Steve didn't have any explanation, but at the moment he had something much more important, something he was afraid he'd never get back. Steve had his best friend. How many times had he wished for this same scenario with his mother and father, a second chance to be with someone believed lost to you forever? He grabbed Danny in a hard hug, no hesitation, no need for joking beforehand and not one bit of self consciousness when his partner's arms returned the embrace.

"Damn," Danny muttered against his shoulder. "It must be worse than I thought."

"You have no idea, Danno." Steve held on a moment longer, soaking in not only the sea water from Danny's wet clothes, but the feeling that had been missing from his life the last three weeks-an energy purely Danny and one that had been painfully vacant from the hospital room that held his friend's body.

"Not that I'm against this new sensitive side of Super SEAL, what with the hand-holding and gregarious display of affection and all, but I'd really like to know what's going on."

Steve pulled back, releasing Danny from the fierce embrace. He refused to lose all contact, moving one hand to his friend's shoulder. "What do you remember?"

Danny frowned. "Hanging out in our office after the Freeman case, making lunch plans with you-Thai food, right?"

"Right." Steve nodded, thinking that afternoon seemed eons ago. "Anything else?"

"Not really." Danny ran a hand over his wet hair, somehow miraculously in place. "Next thing I know I'm sitting on the beach…waiting."

"Waiting for what?" Steve studied their surroundings for the first time-beach and ocean as far as he could see. The island was like none he had seen before, no trees, no vegetation, only a dot of sand in a vastness of blue.

"The hell if I know?" Danny flapped his hands in the air. "I don't even know how long I've been here, or where the hell 'here' is. We're talking Castaway, Steven, minus the weird soccer ball character Wilson. I'd just begun to accept my fate as Gilligan without Skipper, thatched huts and the hot girls when I spotted something in the water, something splashing around like it was wrestling a shark, or maybe being eaten by one."

"And you went in after it?" Steve cast a doubtful glance at his partner, who if goaded or conned into going into the water hightailed it right back to land at the first brush of sea weed against his leg, convinced it was a bump from man-eating aquatic life.

"_It_ was you, Steven, and yes, I came to get your ass." Danny surprised Steve by hauling off and thwacking him in the side. "You owe me a shirt by the way-not just any shirt, my 'cerulean blue' shirt."

"That's why you're wet?" Steve rubbed his ribs, studying his partner's clothes, the furrows of his face. He didn't have the heart to tell Danny his favorite shirt was already ruined. Steve had watched the paramedics cut the blood-soaked material from his best friend's torso in the ambulance ride to the hospital. "You jumped into save me?"

"What was I supposed to do? You're my partner. I'm honor bound to cover you, even if that means jumping onto a moving boat or into mysterious shark infested waters. Just another reason I hate you so much."

Steve snorted. "How did you even know it was me?"

"Did you miss the part where I'm on a deserted island in the middle of the fucking ocean and what looks like a possible scene from Jaws meets Rambo starts to unfold. Who the hell else would it be?" Danny rolled his eyes, hands gesturing. "The Lochness monster?"

"Damn, I've missed you, partner." Despite the situation, Steve couldn't fight back the grin or the need to hug Danny again.

"How long have I been gone?" Danny broke the contact this time, pinning Steve's arms to his side and favoring his partner with a worried look. "Did you hit your head when the shark went after you?"

"There was no shark. I'm fine." Steve sobered. "But you…you've been gone three weeks."

"When you say gone…" Danny let go of Steve's arms and took a slight step back.

"I mean you were shot." Steve sighed, holding his partner's gaze. "You were shot three weeks ago, Danny."

"Shot?" Danny brought a hand to his chest and Steve wondered if the detective realized he ghosted his fingers over the very spot where Murray's bullet had struck him. Maybe his partner had super memory altering abilities, too. "I was shot?"

"A sniper, outside The Palace."

"Am I dead?" Danny looked up at him, first with shock, puzzlement that quickly shifted to dread. "Shit, Steven. Are _you_ dead, too?"

"We're not dead!" Steve wasn't entirely certain, but he refused to believe the afterlife held nothing but a sandbar in the middle of the sea. Being with Danny seemed right, but there should at least be some longboards and a flat screen TV. "You're in the hospital, in a coma."

"Wow, that's so much better." Danny ran his hands along the sides of his hair, a telltale sign he was trying to put a logical spin on what was happening. Steve imagined this particular feat too big for even Danny to throw words at. In the end, he went a different route entirely. "Who the hell shot me? Please tell me it wasn't Wo Fat because that's all you need is one more reason to go completely dark side in your vendetta against that bastard."

Steve marveled at his best friend's ability to plunder the steel vault that was Steve's fucked up psyche and pluck one of his darkest fears as if it were as easy as picking the one black marble in a jar of white golf balls. "It wasn't Wo Fat. It was Rich Murray."

"Rich Murray?" Danny frowned. "When did I piss off, or should I say when did _you _piss off a lounge singer?"

"He's Hillary Freeman's father."

"Damn." Danny rubbed a hand over his mouth, glancing at Steve. "Not to sound like a whiny little bitch, but why me? Why not Keanu or…"

"Me?" Steve couldn't hide the rush of emotion he knew filled his eyes, guilt as bright as the sunshine beating down on them. "He wanted me to suffer, to hurt me. You were the easiest way to make that happen."

"He wanted revenge for losing his daughter." Danny sighed. "I can't blame him for that. If someone hurt Grace…I'm not sure I wouldn't be capable of something similar."

"Grace." The name brought a wave of anxiety crashing over Steve, the exact details of how he had more than likely managed these brief moments with Danny rushing over him like the surf on the shore. He didn't realize he'd physically reeled under the barrage until Danny's hands were on him, guiding him down to sit once more in the warm sand.

"Steve? Are you alright?"

Steve tried to answer his friend's panicked query; a blinding pain behind his eyes causing the words to come out more groan than decipherable language. He buried his head in his hands, attempting to escape the onslaught of images that played behind tightly squeezed eyelids. Murray entering Danny's hospital room, gun pointed at a sleeping Grace and lifeless Danny. Steve's last ditch attempt to take him out, the subsequent explosion of gunfire and Grace's screams for help.

"Steven!" Danny was kneeling in front of him now, gripping his shoulders. "Talk to me."

"Gracie…" Steve finally managed, lifting his head from his hands to meet Danny's worried eyes. "She's in trouble."

"What do you mean she's in trouble?" Danny moved one of his hands from Steve's shoulder, touching the spot above Steve's eye. "And why the hell are you suddenly bleeding all over the fucking place?"

Steve reached up to where Danny's hand rested along his hairline, his fingers coming away covered in blood. He remembered the blazing pain that accompanied the one shot Murray managed to get off when they were wrestling for the gun. His vision swam in and out of focus, the solid ground beneath him shifting as nausea had him swallowing convulsively. "Damn it."

"Hold still." Danny didn't hesitate in tearing the bottom from his treasured cerulean blue shirt, wadding the fabric up before pressing it to the deep score in Steve's head.

Steve hissed, trying to pull back from his partner's ministrations. "Ow! That fucking hurts, Danny."

"Suck it up, Soldier," Danny growled, but Steve didn't miss the empathetic wince that twisted Danny's face, or the fact that his partner's free hand fisted over one of his. "Now tell me about Grace."

"Freeman came in your hospital room-when Grace and I were there. He wanted to finish the job."

"He came to kill me."

"No." Steve shook his head, regretting the action immediately as it felt like his skull might implode from the small movement. "He wanted to take me out. Had planned on doing it at your funeral, but…"

"But didn't count on how much of a stubborn bastard I can be." Danny met Steve's gaze. "You have to go back."

"What?" Steve frowned.

"Back in the water-the way you came. I'm not sure what all this is, but if this were a sappy novel or some kind of crazy sci-fi movie, then that's what you would do."

"No." Steve glanced at the ocean, for once the siren call of the sea having no hold on him. "I'm not leaving you here."

"You just said Grace was in trouble. Her Danno is obviously useless to her. That leaves Super SEAL to save the day. Both of us cannot be hanging out on this fucking beach while my baby girl is in danger, besides from what you've told me, if you stay here you're good as dead. That's not acceptable."

"Do you even realize what you're saying?" Steve had no idea how to get back, and even if he did he wasn't sure he wanted to go. The gunshots and Grace's screams weren't the only sounds Steve vividly remembered. "You don't know what else was going on...what was happening."

"Maybe I do. I feel different since you dropped in, like my time here is almost up." Danny's eyes softened, even as his grip on Steve tightened. "Steven, I know what I'm asking."

"Do you, man?" Steve was pretty sure his partner didn't have a clue.

"I never lost anyone really close to me, not until Mattie. I know you've had just the opposite experience-losing everyone. It sucks. I get that…"

"You don't get it, Danny. If you did you wouldn't ask me to just swim on my merry way. You know Matthew is alive!'" Steve snapped. "I know you have a contact that feeds you information about him. It isn't the same. You can hop a plane and see him if you really wanted to."

"You know that's not true."

Steve knew what he was proposing wasn't so simple, there would be consequences, but he wasn't exactly in a place to be pragmatic. "You sure as hell don't have to take a bullet to the head to get some face time with you brother."

"You took a bullet to the head? That's why you're bleeding all over my ruined shirt?" Danny lifted the makeshift bandage, shaking his head. "Jesus, what is wrong with you, you maniac."

"Really? You're blaming this on me?"

"No, it's obviously my fault for not being there." Danny dropped the torn piece of his shirt, making it to his feet to pace in front of Steve. "Fuck. That crazy sonofabitch is in the same room as my daughter, he had the fucking nerve to shoot my partner! I'd do anything to get my hands on him, to fix this, but I don't know how."

"Come with me." Steve staggered to standing, grabbing his partner's wrist before he could manage another turn away from him. He pulled them towards the water as desperation overrode any echoes of pain he was feeling. "We'll go back together."

"You don't think I've tried to get back?" Danny shook his head, his eyes brightening. "Since waking up here, I've heard Grace calling out to me…I've heard _you_. It sounds crazy, I know, but it's like your voices are on the breeze, in the sound of the surf. I even thought I heard my old man asking me to come back and I'm pretty sure Jersey is a long swim from here. The thing is, Steven I'm afraid, damn it, and not just of the shark-infested water."

"You're one of the bravest men I know." Steve tightened his grip. "You can do this-we can do this together. You're always the one telling me that I'm not alone, that I have backup when I need it most. Well I'm here now to prove that I've learned that lesson. Let me help you, Danno."

"If you really want to help me, let me go and take care of Grace."

Steve looked down at his hand, the one wrapped tightly around Danny's wrist. He thought of his mother and father, the way they'd been unfairly torn away from him and what that separation had done to his life. He'd vowed never to be placed in that situation again, whether it meant safeguarding his heart from all entry, or doggedly holding onto those who already breached his defenses, Steve would not lose anyone else.

"You promised me."

Danny's soft words had him looking up, searching out his best friend's gaze. He knew Danny was talking about the oath he'd invoked from Steve as he bled out on the sidewalk, the pledge to watch over Grace, to be there for her no matter what. All Steve could think about was the similar vow Danny had made to him time and time again over the last two years, if not spoken in so many words. "I could say the same to you, partner."

"Please," Danny begged.

Steve did the only thing he could do-the only thing Danny would accept from him. He let his partner go.

"What Gracie really needs is her Danno." Steve took a step towards the ocean, the cool water lapped up and over his shoes, the insistent current tugging hungrily at him upon contact as sand quickly slipped from beneath where he stood. Steve looked down, surprised that the water was at his knees, quickly rising to his chest without him having so much as moved another step. He raised his gaze to Danny once more before the sea took him completely. "That makes two of us."

To be continued...


	6. Chapter 6

What We Bury

By: Ridley

Beta: Tidia

A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews and kind comments. Even the more critical reviews are so important and I take them all into consideration. As for the course the show is taking, I'm remaining optimistic that things will improve, although next week promises to be another Joe-show. I am still encouraging those with concerns to voice their opinions and wishes for the show. I am starting the where's McDanno campaign. Send a postcard from wherever you are in the world asking 'Where is McDanno?' to bring back the relationship that was such a part of the first season. I will post an actual snail mail address for the powers that be at CBS at the end of this chapter. I'm also posting another email address for CBS. If you can't bring yourself to send a card or letter, use that to tell them what you think. Show you care about the show. Like an unflattering review, any feedback is almost preferable to silence. ;-) I find the quote below very significant not only for this story but for the show's season thus far.

RCJ

"_Sometimes, when one person is missing, the whole world seems depopulated."-Lamartine_

Steve awoke with a gasp, air rushing into his lungs as if he'd been submerged in water without the chance to gather the needed breath for a dive. He took another gulp, coughing when the cool antiseptic-tinged oxygen burned his dry throat.

"Easy." A firm touch grounded him, familiar voice easing his momentary panic as his mind fought for some orientation. "You've been out for a while-just take it easy,"

"Chin." The name sounded garbled, speaking the syllable painful.

"I'm here."

It took a concentrated effort but Steve managed to open his eyes, finding Five-0's lieutenant leaning over him. It was a surreal juxtapose to where he'd been only moments before. "Where…what?"

"You're safe. Murray's taken care of. Everything's fine."

Steve blinked, taking in the same flat egg cream walls he'd been staring at for nearly a month. Gracie's missing artwork and the lack of get well cards told him he was not in the exact room, but the smell Steve was certain would forever remain burned into his olfactory was present, leaving no doubts Steve was back in the hospital, no beach in sight.

Faint fluorescent light had replaced sunshine, the soft hiss of oxygen and whirr of machinery stood in for surf, stiff sheets instead of giving sand held him, and Chin's concerned dark eyes greeted him, not Danny's blue gaze. A longing like homesickness rushed over Steve, an ache so physical he was tempted to curl into a protective ball.

"Steve? Are you with me?"

Steve took another breath, focusing on his teammate's face instead of his surroundings, instead of what was so obviously missing-who he'd left behind. "Where's Grace?"

When Chin hesitated, Steve tried to sit up, forgetting his own pain. He quickly found that although the beach was gone, the pain he had experienced while there was still very much with him. Gray swam at the edges of his vision as his stomach threatened a spectacular show if he didn't stand down immediately, "Shit."

"Moving isn't the best idea, Brah." Chin's warning was delivered in a tone Steve often heard the older man use when breaking up one of Kono and Danny's ridiculous debates on a wide range of topics only adolescents and bored siblings would argue. Its use on him stirred anger, and more than a little sorrow at never hearing it used in proper context again.

"I don't care!" Steve ignored the pinprick burning behind his eyes; Chin's restraining hand as he valiantly attempted to make it out of the bed once more. A little nausea and a headache weren't going to stop him from fulfilling his mission. "What happened to Grace? Where is she?"

"Damn it, Steve, Grace is fine." Chin's light touch shifted, becoming rock solid, his tone hardening with authority. "She's with Danny's dad. I promise you, she's okay."

Steve let his body go limp, the fight leaving him as he read his friend's steady gaze. Chin Ho Kelly did not lie. "What time is it?"

Chin slowly lifted his hand as if he didn't quite trust Steve to stay put, but was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. "Nearly midnight."

"Damn." Steve closed his eyes, thinking about the five o'clock deadline his partner's wife had given him. Not only had he missed it, but brought Grace to the hospital where she'd witness a maniac shoot another member of her family. "Rachel's going to tear me a new one."

Chin's small chuckle had Steve glaring at him. He saw nothing funny in the situation. "What?"

"That's usually Danny's line." Chin patted his arm in sympathy. "Liam called her and asked if he could keep Grace for the night. In light of all that's happened, Rachel agreed."

"Is Gracie okay?" It was a stupid question; one Steve already knew the answer to. Grace had lost her father. She would not be okay for a very long time. Steve should know, he was still waiting for the 'if ever' part of his own healing.

"She's holding up like a trooper."

"She's brave like her dad." Steve swallowed thickly, studying the blanket covering him. As much as he wanted to see Grace for himself, he wondered if Liam shouldn't have taken her home to be with her mother. Steve had little comfort left to give her, and wasn't sure he could look into her eyes, admit to giving her false hope, confess he'd failed to bring her daddy home. He cleared his throat. "What the hell happened to Murray?"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Steve winced at the familiar question. He brought a hand up to touch his head, finding a thick wad of bandaging. Despite the injury, the memories were all there, fragmented and sharp like pieces of a broken mirror. He could easily grasp them, but not without coming away a bit bloody. "Murray coming after me. Fighting with the bastard, the gun going off before I could disarm him."

"The bullet barely grazed you," Chin pulled a chair closer to the bed, taking a seat. "I'm beginning to believe Danny's spiel on you being Super SEAL. The doctor said your reflexes saved you. Another millimeter or so and Five-0 would be looking for a new commander."

Steve glanced up at him, tempted to explain that would still be the case now that his partner was gone. He kept his thoughts to himself when Chin quickly continued.

"As it is you've got a nasty concussion. You've been unconscious for hours, worrying everyone."

"Is he in custody?" Steve half hoped Chin would say that Murray put up a fight and he and Kono were forced to take him out. Of course that would mean Grace would have witnessed the act. He couldn't hope for that even if it meant the bastard who killed Danny was on his way to hell instead of Halawa.

"He is. Kono kicked his ass first, if that makes you feel any better." Chin's smile widened. "I let her do the honors of booking him."

Steve turned his head, looking from the I.V. in his hand to the half empty bag hanging above him. "When can I get out of here?"

"Did you fade out on the part where I said you had a concussion and have been unconscious for hours?"

"I can't be here." Steve hated that his voice broke, that he felt the emotions building up threatening to take over. Even without the concussion, his defenses were worn down. He needed to be by himself before the inevitable happened and he lost complete control.

"Where else would you be?" Chin frowned. "You've been nowhere else for weeks and now that Danny is…"

"Don't talk about Danny!" Steve squeezed his eyes shut, grinding his teeth together. "Please. Just find me a doctor. I'll sign out AMA."

"You haven't even asked about him."

"I don't need to ask about him, damn it. I don't need to know the details." Steve pounded his clenched fists against the mattress. Talking wouldn't change a damn thing. It wouldn't bring his partner back. Steve had tried. He'd tried everything to bring Danny home. "I saw him. Alright?"

"What do you mean you saw him?"

"I know it sounds beyond farfetched, but when Murray shot me, I wasn't in the hospital room any longer. I was on a beach, a deserted island of some kind, with Danny." Steve risked a look at his teammate. If he was going to confess the story to anyone, Chin would be the most likely not to have Danny's shrink friend Dr. Hoy and his canine consultant in for an emergency visit.

"I'm not sure I'm following you, Brah." Chin leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he studied Steve closely. "Maybe I should go find your doctor."

"I'm not delirious, Chin."

"I didn't say you were, only that I didn't understand."

Steve took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to harness the energy surging through him, threatening to crack him apart at all the old fissures. "I blacked out and when I came to, Danny was there. He said he'd been sitting on that beach the whole damn time…waiting."

"I bet he was pissed," Chin chuckled. "Danny hates to wait, and we both know how he feels about the beach."

"You don't think I'm crazy?" Steve raised a brow, grimacing when the action tugged at the fresh stitches in his head. He hadn't expected narrow-minded skepticism, but found the simple acceptance a little laid back even for Chin.

"I think that for the last three weeks I've watched you try every way possible to reach Danny. I have no doubt he has been trying just as hard to return the favor. That your mind finally found a way to make that happen-to build that bridge between you two doesn't seem such a far reach to me."

"You think it was some kind of mirage, self deception?" Steve had seen things in battle, heard soldiers recant incidences of loved ones helping them out of harrowing circumstance even though they were thousands of miles away, or years dead. It had never happened to him, and he'd always chalked it up to extreme stress under duress. Now, that line of thinking made his chest ache. As hard as it had been to leave Danny on that beach, the thought the event had only been some trick of his imagination hurt more.

"No. I'm not saying that at all." Chin leaned closer, resting his arms on the rail of Steve's bed. "Many cultures believe the veils between worlds are at their thinnest during sleep. My grandmother thought death was simply a state of altered consciousness and dreams could present an opportunity to talk to those who had passed. I think if Danny wanted to find you, wanted you to reach him, then he chose the perfect place to wait. You didn't find him on the Jersey Turnpike, now did you?"

"The hell of a lot of good it did him," Steve snapped. He was done with the conversation, ready to get the hell out of there. "Either find my doctor or I'll call for a nurse and have her do it."

"Wait." Chin stood up, his hand finding Steve's shoulder once more. "What do you mean by it not having done Danny any good?"

"I mean I couldn't help him." Steve shifted, trying to evade the older man's touch. He couldn't handle any sympathy, especially in the form of human contact. "I couldn't convince him to come back. It's my fault Danny's dead"

Chin tightened his grip, his fingers digging in so Steve was forced to be still and meet his gaze. "Danny is alive, Steve. I don't know what made you think otherwise, but he's still with us and fighting hard."

"What?" Steve shook his head, wondering if he were simply experiencing another one of Chin's grandmother's altered states of consciousnesses, his mind playing dirty tricks telling him what he needed to believe most. "I heard the monitors when I was fighting with Murray. Danny flat lined. Then at the beach he told me his time there was almost up and…"

"The monitors went off because of his change in vitals. Danny's blood pressure and heart rate were off the chart." Chin's face was grim. "I think the nursing staff thought he was going to go into cardiac arrest before we got Murray out of there and you and Grace settled."

Steve didn't get a chance to ask any more questions because the door to his room opened, revealing Grace and her grandfather. The little girl's face lit up at seeing Steve awake, she pulled her hand from Liam's, making a mad dash for the bed. "Uncle Steve!"

"Hey, Gracie," Steve managed around the huge lump that had returned seemingly doubled in size to the back of his throat. He leaned over to give her a hug; a feeling like his head might fall off accompanying the action.

"Danno opened his eyes! He's waking up." She stepped out of the embrace, looking from Steve to Chin. "Did you already tell him, Uncle Chin? You promised you'd let me."

"I'm sorry Grace, but you know your Uncle Steve. He was about to make a break for it, and I had to tell him something to get him to stay."

"You can't leave now, silly." Grace climbed onto the bed beside Steve. "Pappy and I have been talking to Danno the whole time you were asleep. The doctors say he needs to hear our voices so he knows everything is alright and that everybody is okay. When he gets back from his tests, he needs to hear from you, too. He'll be worried about you."

Chin squeezed Steve's shoulder. "Sounds like Danny needs to know the water's safe, Brah."

"He's awake?" Steve shifted higher in the bed, slipping an arm around Grace's small shoulders. He was almost afraid to move, scared he'd awaken and find the whole conversation a cruel dream, another side effect of the concussion.

"It seems Rich Murray did us all a favor by busting in here trying to take you out." Liam stepped to the end of Steve's bed. He smiled at the younger man, looking more like Danny than he had since Steve met him. "He managed to do what you, Grace and all your nefarious accent decals hadn't. He pissed my boy off enough to bring him back from the dead."

"Nobody messes with Danno's monkey." Grace said, dropping her head to Steve's shoulder, a large yawn escaping as the late hour and harrowing events of the long day seemed to be catching up to her. "Or his SEAL."

"But he's going to be okay?" Steve looked from Chin to Liam.

"He's not completely conscious or out of the woods yet. The doctors say it will take some time," Liam continued. "They're waiting on tests, but he's definitely reacting to stimuli and pain now, which they keep saying are excellent signs."

"Don't worry, Uncle Steve." Grace wrapped her hand around the SEAL's, holding it tight. "If people woke up from comas like they do on television and in the movies, Danno would be in here yelling at you right now for getting shot in the head."

Steve frowned at Liam who laughed heartily at his granddaughter's astute and sincere prediction of her father's behavior.

Chin patted Steve's shoulder sympathetically. "I'd say that sounds about right, Brah."

"Steven, why did you put your head in the way of the bullet!" Grace mimicked her father with a false deep voice complete with exaggerated hand waving.

Steve snorted, hugging her closer to him. For the first time in weeks he felt something loosen inside him as Grace beamed up at him with Danny's and Liam's crooked grin. He tickled her, the sound of little girl laughter as welcome and promising as the ocean surf.

"Kiddo, I can't wait to hear Danno say exactly that."

To be continued…

A/N: As promised, the address and email:

Nina Tassler, President of CBS Entertainment

7800 Beverly Blvd

Los Angeles, CA 90039-2112

audsvc(at)cbs(dot)com

- You can address it to the attention of Nina Tassler or Peter Lenkov


	7. Chapter 7

What We Bury

By: Ridley

Beta: Tidia

A/N: Happy Halloween! Hope this is just the right sized treat for everyone. Thanks so much to those who have commented and made my first hand at a multi-chapter fic in this verse so enjoyable. Every review, alert, and favorite was very appreciated! Thanks to my beta and friend, Tidia who made this story much better than it would have been without all her suggestions and editing.

Also, I am no doctor. My limited experience with coma survivors is gleaned from a family member and a few cross over classes in behavioral medicine. I tried to keep this believable, but stretched it I'm sure all in the name of creative liberty.

When the world says, "Give up,"  
>Hope whispers, "Try it one more time."<br>~Author Unknown

Danny wasn't sure if he was awake or dreaming, maybe caught in a between place where all things seem possible and nothing appears real. He was certain; however he had been to this spot several times now, not quite able to make it to somewhere solid. It was akin to being trapped underwater. Able to see the wavering sun and distorted blue clouds through translucent waves, but tethered to an anchor that prevented surfacing. It would explain the muffled voices, the half-sensed conversations he kept hearing when his brain was capable of processing, as if he were escaping the undertow just long enough to get his head above water before being dragged back under once more.

At times, Grace's laughter floated to Danny, the cacophony of family surrounding him, propelling him to try to push harder to break through. He thought he heard his old man's voice. The deep tenor coaxed with an odd mix of sports scores and excerpts from what Danny was certain was one of his pop's dog-eared William Johnstone westerns. The words did not conjured images of desert sand covered trails and dusty horses as they had when Danny was a child, but visions of yellowed windows on a snowy New Jersey night, worn leather recliner and the smell of pipe tobacco.

His brother's eight-year-old face swam in and out of focus, taunting Danny with a challenging smirk from the other side of a Monopoly board. It was Mathew's name he tried to speak, but it was someone else who gripped Danny's hand, who offered soothing words that dispelled the panic of disorientation. Steve's touch provided a tether, but it was his tone, a strange mix of assurance and rare fear that forced Danny to fight the undertow of unconsciousness.

"Hey, Partner."

Danny blinked, Steve's image wavered as Matty's had, but solidified with a deep breath on Danny's part and another tight squeeze to his hand from Steve. His partner looked tired, worked over, but the surge of relief Danny felt at seeing him overtook all concern.

"Steven." The syllables required effort, his tongue feeling strangely like a foreign object. Danny wasn't sure they made sense anywhere but in his head until Steve loomed closer, a ridiculous smile splitting his battered face.

"About time you woke up." Steve glanced at his watch, jotting something on a pad of paper by the bedside table before refocusing on Danny. "You've been out longer than usual. I was beginning to worry."

Danny's confusion must have registered along the furrows of his brow because Steve's grip on his hand tightened and he leaned closer to explain. "It's okay. You've been staying awake longer for the last few days, but you don't always remember what's happened when you come to. Gracie says you're like Drew Barrymore in some movie called Fifty First Dates. She wanted to make a video for you to watch each time you woke up."

"Grace?" Danny remembered his daughter's voice, solaced it was at least real, and not a haunting memory like the time with his brother.

"I reminded her that you're not the most patient of people so that maybe we should just have a quick script that we stick to and recite every time you decide to grant us with your company."

Danny might have blinked, nodded possibly. His body felt oddly disconnected from his thoughts and slightly out of his control like after a ludicrous long forced run to apprehend a suspect, but Steve seemed to read a prompt for him to continue.

"So, here goes. You were shot and you're in the hospital. You've been here almost four weeks, but you're on the mend now. Grace is safe and sound. Chin and Kono are fine, the bad guy is locked away, and, no, I didn't kill anyone."

Danny licked his lips, the strong feeling of déjà vu accompanying Steve's spiel disconcerting, but oddly comforting. "How many times?"

It was Steve's turn to frown. "How many times were you shot?"

"No, Goof." Danny rolled his eyes. "How many times…have you said that?"

Steve's grin returned. "I stopped counting after ten."

"Was I shot in the head?" Danny's gaze went to the stark white bandage wrapped around his friend's head, wondering if he was sporting a matching dressing that would make them appear like odd mix-matched bookends.

"No."

"Were you?" Danny's thoughts might have been sluggish, but he didn't miss the way Steve tensed or his quick re-direction.

"You were hit in the chest, nearly bled out." Steve motioned to Danny's blanket ensconced torso. "But the Doc said everything has healed up nicely."

"But I'm brain damaged?"

Steve snorted. "No more than usual. The doctor says this is a normal reaction for coma patients, and that you'll recover all your faculties-eventually."

"Coma?" Danny barely pushed the word past his lips, and it had nothing to do with his lethargic tongue. He had never been exactly good at keeping his feelings from showing on his face like some neon sign advertizing his current emotion, especially with those he was closest to, but he had a feeling his current condition exacerbated the flaw. He must have looked completely terrified if Steve's reaction was any indication.

"Whoa, partner. Don't freak out on me." Steve's hand went to his shoulder as his gaze searched the machines above Danny, looking for what the detective imagined was evidence of the impending panic attack Danny could feel building. "Coma is just another way of saying asleep-really, really deeply asleep."

"I know what a coma is, Steven." Danny tried to calm his racing heart; even though he could hear the slur in his speech, the weak and unfamiliar timbre gave him more cause to 'freak out' as Steve so eloquently put it. "But I'm okay?"

"You're good." Steve's gaze met Danny's once more, apparently reassured by the numbers on the readout that Danny was holding it together, perhaps better than last time they had been through this. "I promise you, Buddy everything's going to be fine."

"Good to know." Danny tried to sit up, once again alarmed when his body refused to cooperate.

"Just like your brain, your body is still adjusting." Steve's touch to Danny's shoulder increased in pressure, effectively keeping the patient still as he manipulated the bed controls to raise Danny upright. "You'll be spending some long days with the physical therapist, but Kim assures me that although miracles are rare, you'll at least be returned to the minimal level of fitness you strive to maintain."

"Kim?" Danny sighed, remembering all too well the painful hours spent with the sadistic torturers who swore they were helping him with his knee. He chose to ignore Steve's jab at his physical prowess. "At least tell me she's hot."

"_He_'s not bad, if you're into the tall, lanky type." Steve reclaimed his chair, returning a hand to rest around Danny's wrist. "I wouldn't worry though because I think he got the impression you were taken."

"Possibly because you've been holding my hand like some school girl with a crush?" Danny glanced from their hands to his partner, completely expecting his friend to pull away. Super SEAL surprised him by keeping his hand where it was, tangible proof Danny's condition had been grave, and despite Steve's assurances, the commander was not completely convinced of Danny's imminent recuperation.

"The doctor told us that physical touch is important with coma patients. People need to know someone's with them, waiting on them." Steve shrugged away the medical explanation and the serious moment. "Besides, I was talking about the steady stream of beautiful women that paraded by your bedside and had their way with you while you were unaware."

"Beautiful women?" Danny was willing to let the issue slide.

"Gracie had an idea that you were pulling a Sleeping Beauty, and that all it would take to wake you up would be the perfect kiss. She talked Kono, Jenna, Rachel, a bevy of the floor nurses, even Mo into giving it their best shot."

"Mo?" Danny grimaced. Grace's plan hadn't sounded half bad until that particular revelation. "Kamekona's sister, Mo?"

"She made Gracie give her a dollar and her stash of pudding cups. There could have been tongue involved."

Danny attempted a glare but realized quickly he didn't have the muscle control to quite summon his typical menace. Still, Steve seemed to read his intention and the very attempt on Danny's part to appear lethal brought a more genuine grin to his face. "Where was my back-up?"

"I made sure Mo kept her hands on top of the blankets."

Danny took a deep breath and let it out slow, surprised that for having been shot in the chest he didn't hurt all that much. "At least Grace didn't enlist _Prince_ Charming."

"Chin was willing to take one for the team, and Kamekona was game, but I told them if any guy was going to kiss you, it really should be your partner."

"Please tell me you didn't, Steven."

"Have you ever known me to say no to your daughter?"

Danny was unable to read if his best friend was being serious or not, but knew from experience Grace got her way with his partner-the kitten now scratching up Rachel's leather couches and hacking up fur balls on her priceless oriental rugs was proof of that. "No wonder I didn't want to wake up."

"That's not funny." Steve's grin vanished. "You scared the hell out of us, Danno. Everyone thought you were a lost cause."

"Everyone but you?" Danny intended for his eyebrow to rise, but wasn't sure if his face complied.

"Gracie and me…we never gave up on you." Steve took his hand away from Danny's wrist long enough to roughly palm his eyes with a heavy exhale. That foreign insecurity that had pulled Danny to the surface had returned to Steve's voice, forcing Danny to focus, to fight off the tug of sleep he could already feel making a play for his attention. "We knew you'd come back, Danno."

"And I'm not going anywhere." Danny had a feeling he had repeated that mantra more than once in their conversations he couldn't remember, but the way Steve ducked his head, the way his mouth tightened at the edges told Danny it hadn't been enough. It was evidence there were some breaks Steve couldn't fix with duct tape and sheer will, scars Danny might never be able to help heal. "Unless you're not telling me something…"

"No." Steve was quick to assure him yet again, the strength in his voice returning along with his typical protective posture. "You're going to be fine."

"I'm sorry this hasn't been a day at the beach for you." Danny wondered if his words had come out wrong when Steve's face blanched.

"Do you remember what happened at the beach?" Steve leaned closer. Danny was sure if he'd been a dog his ears would have perked, tail pointed to alert.

"I was shot at the beach?" That didn't feel right even to Danny's very sketchy memory-although it would prove his theory about nothing good taking place near the water, and give credence to his desire never to spend time there.

"No, at the Palace."

"By Wo Fat?" Danny asked, thinking it would explain why his partner was such a wreck. He hoped Jedi Master Joe hadn't insinuated yet again that Steve's pursuit of his arch enemy had been the cause, because if so when Danny had more control than only his eyeballs, he and the SEAL commander were going to have a long talk.

"Why do you keep saying that?" Steve growled.

Danny didn't understand why his partner found that scenario so unlikely, though his displeasure was understandable. "Is it really that much of a reach?"

"You were shot by Rich Murray, and before you ask, no he is not a lounge singer, but I most certainly had a hand in pissing him off."

"He's Hillary Freeman's father." Danny wasn't sure why the information was right there on the tip of his betraying tongue, or why his quick parroting of it leached more of the color from Steve's face. "What'd I say?"

"Danny, we've not talked about the actual details of the shooting any of the times you've woken up."

Danny shrugged, finding his partner's revelation trivial compared to the other things he didn't remember-like almost dying. "I probably picked it up during one of the many death bed vigil professions of your guilt and sorrow for getting me shot."

Steve leaned back, running a hand over his hair as he made an effort to look anywhere but at Danny- all obvious signs Danny had pegged his best friend's actions dead on. "Since when do I apologize for getting you shot, Danno?"

"You never apologize when you should, Steven, but you tend to take responsibility for things that are in no way whatsoever your fault."

"Murray will be spending the rest of his life in prison." Steve returned his gaze to Danny as if the shift in conversation was a table cloth he'd magically pulled from beneath a six piece setting of fine china and crystal. "He confessed to everything."

"He lost his child-what else did he have to lose?" Danny was sure he'd find it in his heart to hate the man when he was suffering through physical therapy, or shushing one of the nightmares he was sure Grace was bound to have. Yet at the moment he couldn't manage any real ire towards the man who he could only picture as the broken father he'd witnessed at Max's morgue only days after Hillary Freeman's shooting.

"His life, for starters."

Danny didn't need to be running on all cylinders to recognize the 'No one will be left standing in the wake of my wrath' look on Steve's face, but was unable to comment when his partner's attention zeroed in on the door. He watched Steve stand, maneuver to a more strategic position as his hand went to the gun at his side before Danny heard the voices in the hallway. Steve dropped his stance when Grace's head poked in the door, her eyes going from Super SEAL to Danny.

"Danno!"

"Hey, Monkey." Danny managed to lift a hand in greeting to his daughter as she bounded across the room to meet him.

"You're awake." She leaned over the bed giving him a careful hug before looking to Steve. "Did you already give him the script, Uncle Steve?"

"I did, Gracie." Steve winked at her. "You can act out the puppet show you and Kamekona created next time."

"There's a puppet show?" Danny looked at his daughter.

"I sacrificed all the socks I packed to your daughter's creative designs." The voice that answered had Danny's gaze going to the door with all the zeal and intent Steve's had before.

"Pops?" He couldn't quite believe his eyes as his father stepped into the room, unsure if he was possibly suffering from a side effect of being unconscious too long. Danny couldn't remember if Steve mentioned hallucinations. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Watch the language, son."

"It's better than the mother of all bad words you said last time when you woke up with Pappy, Danno." Grace patted his shoulder. "The doctor said abnormal cursing isn't unusual after a coma, but Uncle Steve told him that it would be unusual if you didn't swear."

"A fact I will be sure to share with your mother when I get home." Danny's father took a spot on the edge of the mattress, resting his hand briefly against Danny's hair before letting his long fingers brush along his son's stubble cheek. "Between you and your brother she's keeping the saints on their toes."

Danny glanced towards his partner. They had made a promise to be the messenger of doom to each other's family only if the worst was at hand. Danny understood from Steve's state of 'un-Super SEAL-ness' that his condition had been touch and go, but not until this moment of actually coming face to face with his father in Hawaii did it hit him like a boulder. "You called my folks?"

"Chin convinced me it was the right thing to do. Joe got your dad a flight out here." Steve glanced at Liam. "The Captain's been staying with me for the last few weeks."

"I have to admit your partner's not as bad as you made him sound, Danny Boy. It seems your tendency to embellish has not changed much since your days of describing all those teachers you swore were out to get you in high school."

"Obviously Steven hasn't been himself while I've been gone." Danny couldn't believe Steve had used his coma to ingratiate himself to Danny's father.

"He's been pretty much the same," Grace corrected with a baleful glance at her uncle. "Uncle Steve crashed his truck into police headquarters, punched the governor, got fired and had a shootout in the hospital while you were gone."

"I did not get fired," Steve assured Danny. "I'm just on a short leave of absence, which will be over before you're ready to return to work."

"That's what you feel the need to explain?" Danny felt the twinge of energy race along his shoulders and arms as they ached to lift from the mattress to take flight to illustrate his disbelief.

"Gracie painted your fingernails."

Danny glanced down at his uncooperative hands, mortified when he noticed for the first time the pink glitter cats glaring back at him. "Grace Emma Williams."

Grace leaned closer to her father. "Uncle Steve got shot."

"It's just a graze." Steve lifted his hand to the bandage, giving Gracie a rare frown. "And that was not in the script, kiddo."

Danny sighed, frustrated that he was having a hard time keeping up with the volleying conversation. "Really, Steven, just once you couldn't keep your head out of the way of the bullet?"

Danny was certain his rant must have been a garbled mess when Grace burst out laughing, his father and Steve soon joining.

"Told you so," Grace giggled, her and Steve exchanging a quick fist bump that had Danny even more confused than he was sure his condition warranted.

"My daughter is now laughing at bullet wounds and creating puppet dramas about shootings." Danny looked to his father for help. "Do you not see the madness I've been telling you about?"

"What I see are two people who have been working very hard to get you to wake up." Liam gestured to Grace and Steve. "They might have used some unorthodox methods, but it all worked out well in the end."

"Oh my God. He's brainwashed you." Danny studied his father. "Since when have you ever believed the ends justify the means? How long have you been staying with Batman?"

"Almost a month now."

"This is worse than I thought." Danny groaned. "Ma will never let you come back home."

"I've been staying with Uncle Steve, too." Grace announced, proudly.

"Really?" Danny met his partner's gaze.

"Rachel let me take your visitation days." Steve placed a hand on top of Grace's head, giving it a little shake. "I promised you I would take care of her."

"That would explain the downgraded wardrobe and grooming." Danny took in his daughter's state of dress, the sparkly skirt, animal print t-shirt, and absent trade-mark pig tails. "What next, Babe- pink camouflage cargos and Kevlar?"

"I believe the dynamic duo call it chumming the waters," Liam explained with a smile in his granddaughter's direction. "Grace and your partner seem to know exactly all the right buttons to push to keep you riled."

"You have no idea the ways in which Steven can anger me, Pops," Danny replied. "That he enlisted my innocent daughter in his one man crusade is not a big surprise."

"Mission 'Bring Danno Back' is right on target." Steve glanced at his watch. "This is the longest amount of time you've stayed awake."

"You might even make it until lunch today." Grace climbed onto the bed by her father curling up by his side. "Auntie Kono is bringing us takeout from the Noodle House.

Danny understood the unlikeliness of him eating anything that didn't come from a tube, considering the effort it took to string sentences together. Steve, in the meantime, reclaimed his chair and propped his feet on the railings of the bed.

"We can finally get in that Sponge Bob marathon you promised me, Partner."

"Sponge Bob?" Danny was seriously beginning to wonder if he had woken to some strange parallel universe.

Grace clamored down from the bed. "I have the DVD's in my backpack."

"Is Sponge Bob that funny yellow fella with the tie and loud mouth?" Liam pulled another chair to the other side of Danny's bed and sat down. "He kind of reminds me of you, Danny Boy."

Steve snorted. "But with a much better personality and lack of anger issues."

"I hate you, you know that, right?"

"Sure, Danno." Steve grinned, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. "Just like you hate pineapple, 90 degree Christmases and all things Hawaii."

His partner's smile told Danny there was another part of the story he was missing, a part he probably did not want recanted in front of his old man and little girl. Danny had a firm belief that some things were better left deep in the dark subconscious where a guy was careful to bury them.

"You ready for the show, Danno?" Grace returned to the bed, remote control in hand. The scent of strawberries and ocean breeze tickled his nose as she curled next to his side. He couldn't help the grin or contented sigh that escaped him.

"You bet, Monkey." He rolled his eyes toward Steve, hoping his best friend could read the gratefulness in his gaze. Danny could not begin to express the truth behind the snide smirk he hoped he was pulling off. "It's not like I'm going to remember any of this any way."


End file.
